Of the Langfelds
by Hazelcloud
Summary: Being named a king didn't necessarily make one a good king, although King Orrin firmly believes he is a better king than Galbatorix. And it doesn't take one King to run a country, no it takes cousins, mages, and soldiers too. Welcome to Surda, everyone!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

A huge map of Alagaesia covered the whole dark stone wall, its cream parchment and black ink stood out in the scarcely furnished room. A huge oak desk had been set up in the middle of the room so that the occupant of the desk could gaze out upon the map.

Or glower at the map, depending on the mercurial mood of Alagaesia's king. Dark eyes flickered over the map, the practiced glare picking out points of interest easily.

The green forest of Du Weldenvarden spread over the corner of the map, hidden in the thick trees there laid the elven nation. The Spine swept like a backbone throughout Alagaesia dividing the empire from the Dwarves. A thin knife stuck stabbed in the map marked Tronjheim deep in the bowels of Farthen Dur where he suspected the Varden were hiding. Uru 'Baen glimmered like the jewel of the empire from the center of the map. Helgrind lurked outside of Dras-Leona like a dark specter. But what currently held Galbatorix's attention was the free nation of Surda. His advisors had informed him that the Surdan King Larkin had been successfully eliminated leaving the monarchy to his son, Orrin.

It irritated Galbatorix that there was still a Langfeld left to claim the throne. In fact, Surda irritated him. On the map, the little free nation was like a plague spot that refused to disappear. Since, it had broken away from the empire it had been nothing but a nuisance. A nuisance of a nation whose people had always remembered the freedom they had held before the empire came into being. He had failed to eliminate all of the Langfelds when he first came to power and he had been paying for it ever since. King Larkin had a fondness for the Varden, and Galbatorix held no illusions about the son. He knew that Surda was supporting the hidden Varden even if he did not have the evidence yet. The final stroke had been when Surda had again broken with the empire. Until he managed to eliminate all of the Langfelds it was not worth it to try and reclaim Surda, he had declared his intentions to his advisors and immediately begun plans to kill the remaining off.

Everything was coming to fruition. Only two Langfelds stood between him and the failure of Surda.

The time would never come soon enough, Galbatorix thought, with a growl. He hefted the dagger in his hand, and sent it flying into the map, striking Surda. There was the sound of fabric rustling and Galbatorix heaved an aggravated sigh as he turned to look at his company.

The two men facing him looked similar enough with empty maroon eyes and long jagged maroon hair. One smirked, revealing sharp white fangs, which would have been unnerving to anyone but Galbatorix. Frequent contact with the Shades had worn that effect away. The pair standing before him was some of the most powerful Shades that he had been able to locate. Both had been willing to work for him in exchange for something that he had not even realized that they craved, eldunarí. He wished he knew how the Shades knew of the existence of eldunarí. They had been one of the well kept secrets of the elves but the Shades had known. Now that, Galbatroix thought irritably, was unnerving.

One of the Shades shifted again, flicking a glare at the other. Between the two was ill concealed disgust. Galbatorix was not sure why but neither Shade got along with the other. It was strange, especially when you looked upon them for they were so similar that they appeared to be twins. Galbatorix could tell the difference through skin tone, and sometimes personality. Durza's skin was almost translucent, overly pale, while Dolv's skin was cream-ish though still not a tone that would be considered human. Dolv spoke first, his voice achingly empty as though the speaker was speaking from far away, a voice designed to unnerve.

"You summoned, milord." Dolv said. Durza nodded stiffly in agreement. Galbatorix almost laughed knowing as he did how much it angered the Shade to have to support Dolv.

"I have a mission for you." Galbatorix folded his arms, and leaned forward onto the desk, fixing the pair with a sharp gaze. "Durza, I have information that the Dragon egg is being moved. Find it and bring it to me."

"Yes sir." Durza said with a bow, his maroon gaze fixed upon the dagger stuck in the map.

"Durza… I suggest you start around Farthen Dur." Galbatorix suggested, before dismissing the Shade with a sharp gesture. Durza seemed stung by the curt dismissal but left without a word. Dolv, meanwhile, watched the whole exchange with a pleased smirk.

"His loyalty wavers." Dolv said shortly, turning the empty gaze on Galbatorix. Galbatorix laced his fingers together, and leaned back looking more at ease.

"I have never trusted him. He has not proven to be as useful as I thought." Galbatorix said, noting the straightening in the Shade's demeanor. He had his suspicions regarding Dolv too, but the Shade had been useful enough so far and Galbatorix had no doubt that Dolv would be pleased to see Durza fall from favor. "You said you had made progress with the eldunarí."

"Yes." Dolv removed the eldunarí from within his dark cloak and placed it gently upon Galbatorix's desk. Galbatorix jerked back in surprise and horror when he saw the extent of the damage to the eldunarí. The marble surface was laced with pock marks, and cracks which marred the beauty of the blue stone.

"You've damaged it." Galbatorix spoke with cold rage. Of the two Shades, Galbatorix had trusted only Dolv with an eldunarí, a particularly strong and reticent old dragon that would have been of little use to him but it still rankled him to see it reduced to this.

"Nay, it's perfectly functional. The dragon is in no shape to resist." Dolv corrected him sullenly. Galbatorix turned his attention back to the eldunarí, and shook his head.

"I have no use for such a pathetic creature." Galbatorix gestured at the broken eldunarí again. "You may keep it if you wish; else I will have it disposed of." The Shade grinned widely, revealing the pointed fangs that had so marred the eldunarí. Dolv stepped forward, lightly scooping up the stone and hiding it in his dark cloak again. In his own bizarre way, Galbatorix was rewarding the Shade for information that he had relayed previously. The smirk on Dolv's face was undeniably the happiest he had ever seen the creature, and the happiest that he would see until news of Durza's death reached Uru 'Baen in the future.

_Thunk._ The dagger flew forward and landed in Surdan territory on the map much like it had years earlier, except that this time the recently conquered Feinster was naught but a charred circle, and only one Shade stood just to his left in the room, watching silently.

"Damn Surda, and damn the Varden." Galbatorix growled angrily. Dolv predictably said nothing, his maroon eyes locked on the map. "We need to deal with their rider. They would be nothing without him." Dolv again said nothing, though he did turn to look back at Galbatorix. "Have you nothing to say, Shade? Even Durza had advice, unwelcome as it was." This time, the gaze hardened.

"You need to deal with the egg. Another rider would be a hindrance, regardless of their loyalty." Dolv said coldly. Galbatorix spread his hands, staring at the gedwey ignasias there, one pale and shimmering, the other dark purple like a bruise. "I could help you with that but I doubt you would approve of my methods."

"Indeed." Galbatorix agreed thinking of the battered eldunarí that he knew Dolv still possessed. "I will deal with it myself."

"As for the Varden, and the Surdans, the mages have been instructed to target the leaders. That should sow chaos in the ranks of command." Dolv said.

"If we could break their leaders, or the rider we would seal the fate of the war." Galbatorix mused thoughtfully. "But they have been made it this far alive for nothing, it will be difficult to reach them. I will summon you later." He told Dolv, the Shade bowed before leaving the room on silent feet.

Galbatorix resumed his examination of his palms. On one hand was a shining silvery gedwey ignasia, and on the other was another gedwey ignasia that had a color comparable to a bruise, purple and dark. Her and him. Galbatorix brushed a finger over the silvery circle. _She_ would not approve of his plans to deal with the green egg. She would not approve of much that he did anymore. But she was gone, and he was waging a war. Not to mention that anything that he did would be preferable to Dolv's malicious offer.

Galbatorix climbed to his feet, and left the map room behind, pausing only to remove the dagger that he had thrown into Surda, stowing it away in his tunic. He stopped outside a mural of a purple dragon, created on the wall of the castle. The dragoness had a sharp beauty modeled after his memories of his own dragon, Jarnunvόsk. Galbatorix lifted his hand with the silver mark and muttered a swift spell. A light burst from his palm, and the protective barriers that surrounded the mural were undone. He stepped forward and placed his palm on one of the violet scales of the dragoness, pushing down lightly. His gedwey ignasia glowed again, and the mural shifted backward opening up a passage.

Galbatorix stepped forward and entered the hidden chamber behind the mural. He could hear the rock shift into place behind him with a scrape. In front of him was the green egg laying on a velvet cushion, encased in bright white magic. He smiled; the sight would have confused the Varden. He stepped closer to the magic and lifted the silver mark again. Another spell and bright magic lifted the protective spells that he had set there earlier. He brushed the silver mark against the egg lightly. _She_ would have loved the egg, Galbatorix was certain; she had been so excited about the idea of eggs and dragonlings. Obsessive about offspring almost, he though ruefully, it was a pity that she had not had the chance to have her own. Not that any of the rider's dragons were worthy of _her_, they had all been ruined by the riders corruption.

He sighed, and pulled his hand away from the egg. The dragonling had not shown any sign of hatching, and it was becoming more of a risk than an asset. If the Varden got their hands on it they would gain another chance to defeat him. That must not be allowed to happen. _She_ would not approve of his plan at all, Galbatorix thought with another sigh. He pulled a single leather glove from his tunic pocket and slipped it over his hand, covering the silver mark. And since she would not approve, she must not be allowed to see.

Galbatorix lifted his other hand, the bruise like mark glimmering faintly. He breathed another spell, this one more complicated and tainted with the so called 'dark arts' than the spells he had used previously. The egg's shape shimmered, and the vivid green color drained away, leaving it with a dark color similar to the purple of his gedwey ignasia. Galbatorix brushed his hand over the egg, satisfied that he could no longer feel the dragonling's consciousness. Perfect, he thought gleefully, if the dragon could not feel human presences there would be no way for it to identify its rider. It would _never_ hatch.

Galbatorix lifted the egg, and moved to the boxes that were scattered about the room. One was a treasure chest that held jewels and other bright trinkets that she would have loved. He tucked the egg into the chest, buried under the jewels where it could not be seen. Then he closed the chest, and turned to the other boxes. These were filled with eldunari, one to each box, tucked away and covered in velvet to keep them comfortable. He reached out and found the dragon that he was searching for immediately.

Zoltan had been a young dragon when he had forced the heart from the dragon's chest. Young enough that what little consciousness was encased in the eldunari could be confused for a dragonling. He lifted the green eldunari from the box, and settled it on the velvet cushion that had previously held the dragon egg. He was lucky that Zoltan had also been a green color. It would not be necessary for him to change the eldunari's color in order to set up the ruse.

Galbatorix lifted his hand, and dark magic rushed from his gedwey ignasia as he set up new protective spells, these laced with darker magic than the ones he had set up. When the spells were finished he turned to survey the room. There were only five or six other eldunari in the room. All of the others were stored elsewhere or in use, he would need to remove the ones remaining later, Galbatorix decided. And be sure that the Shade, Dolv did not see him moving them. The creature would undoubtedly offer to help 'dispose' of them.

Not to mention, the brat, Murtagh would take an interest in the location of the eldunarí too. He had been unusually firm at their last meeting; his brother must have sown a seed of hope in his heart again. Galbatorix smiled gleefully; there would be plenty of time to break him now that the egg was dealt with. But just in case… Galbatorix cast about with his mind, reassuring himself that neither of his allies was near before exiting the egg chamber.

He gazed on the mural of Jarnunvόsk, and smiled. Once he dealt with the Varden, and Surda he could move forward with his plans that would please her. The creation of a new age of Dragon Riders.

**Hazelcloud: I hope you enjoyed the prologue!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hazelcloud: Thanks a ton for the review Solangedrama, I meant to reply but ffn has decided to no longer cooperate. Therefore I'm updating the story instead. That's a fair trade, right?**

**Ch. 1**

The room was silent for once but the faces of the people within were etched with anger and frustration. It was another Varden war meeting, and all of the key figures had once again gathered together. Arya Drottingu, face relaxed and impassive as ever, was seated ramrod straight next to the shorter King Orik, whose whole countenance was flushed. Eragon was sitting opposite Arya, anxious fingers drumming on the table as he focused on his leader, Nasuada. Nasuada was standing at the head of the table, speaking loudly to King Orrin who sat at the other end of the table. Her expression, like stone, contrasted greatly with his weak attempts at cutting off her speech by frowning and shrugging weakly.

"You promised the Varden military and monetary support, Orrin. You can't back out of those responsibilities now!" She raged, one fist making swift contact with the table.

"You seem to be supporting the Varden well, so I don't believe that the monetary support will still be necessary." Orrin said, spreading his hands apart in a gesture of helplessness. Nasuada's frown deepened and Eragon shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The argument had been going back and forth for awhile but the Surdan king seemed to be on the verge of giving up. In Eragon's mind, Orrin was never very forceful.

"You promised, Orrin. Do you support the Varden and this cause or not? At the moment you sound false." Nasuada hissed her voice dropping deadly low. All eyes turned to look at the Surdan king. A challenge had been issued.

The Surdan King spluttered, his face flushing red. "Of course! Surda is fighting this war right alongside the Varden, but we can't afford to be paying for two armies."

"So you're giving up? This is exactly what the enemy wants you to do Orrin. Galbatorix will be laughing in his castle when he hears of this betrayal." Nasuada said, refusing to let Orrin back away.

"You're overreacting; I never said that Surda was leaving. We will continue to fight; it's just the matter of money…" Orrin's speech trailed off, as he sought in vain for the words to convince Nasuada.

"If you are dedicated to the cause, you won't leave us in our time of need." Nasuada's voice was stronger, bordering on triumphant. She had the Surdan king cornered; he wouldn't be getting what he wanted this time.

"Yes, Nasuada." Orrin sighed in defeat, but Eragon noticed with some trepidation that the weary look in his eyes was hardening. The Surdan king did not appreciate being manipulated; eventually he would refuse to be swayed.

"A message for King Orrin." A voice called to them from just outside the tent. Orrin looked around at the others gathered and when no one objected, he answered.

"Come in then." The tent flap was opened and a soldier ducked inside. Everyone stiffened at the sight, until the soldier held out two letters to King Orrin. It was then that the crest of the armor was recognized as that of the Surdan army.

"From Surda, sir." The soldier said. Orrin hesitated for a second before taking the letters. The soldier bowed crisply, and departed.

With his departure, the war meeting began again but the momentum was gone. Nasuada's anger had cooled, and neither Orik nor Arya had anything to add to the discussion. Eragon was bored, and he could tell that Saphira meant to go hunting soon. With any luck, he hoped that he would be able to enjoy a flight with her. Orrin was exhausted, and in no mood to continue, his pride stinging from the defeat at Nasuada's hands. Plus, the letters he held were of infinitely more interest. It was decided that the meeting would commence again tomorrow afternoon, and everyone left the tent gratefully.

King Orrin hurried to his personal tent, anxious to see what news the letters contained. Once he was seated, and had candlelight to read by, he examined the seals on the letters. The first had the Langfeld royal crest and the second a curling design that he recognized as being the seal of the Greylays, the mages who served Surda. He smiled softly, and split the royal seal.

_Dearest cousin,_

_I hope this latest message finds you well, for if you have been injured and neglected to tell me, I shall never forgive you._

_As for everyone you've left behind in Surda: Schuyler's been working tirelessly, he seems nervous. He says to tell you that Galbatorix has accepted two more magicians into the Black Hand. I'm sure you'll take the necessary precautions. Azur misses you, he hangs around the castle moping. It's pitiful according to Torix. I think it's cute, I don't suppose you'll let us come visit you? Torix is fine, and Riley too. I'm sure everyone would enjoy a visit to you but I realize that you're busy orchestrating a war. Still, I think it would be best if we could all talk._

_ I mentioned this sentiment to Riley a couple days ago, and he says that he will enchant a mirror so that we can talk. All of us, of course. It's meant for both users to have some magical ability though, so he had to be creative in order to work around that. I expect you to be polite and thank him promptly._

_ Riley's been busy with the mirror but Schuyler and I have been spending some time digging around in the library. It's fascinating, there is a large collection of maps, and ledgers from some of the earlier kings._

_ On the topic of finances, I've heard some rumors about the Varden that I won't hesitate to mention. I heard Nasuada's creating lace by magical means, and selling it for impossibly low prices. Surely, you realize the danger this poses. I've already received complaints from the Silk and Weaver's guild. Lace was a huge source of income for many of our citizens, Orrin. If they lose their livelihood we won't be able to support them and this war._

_ Also, puzzling is the fact that Surda is still gifting the Varden with large amounts of money. Orrin, you need to be firm. If Nasuada wants Surdan support she needs to be self-sufficient. You know that the Surdan people have a low opinion of the Varden already; they don't respect an organization that can't fend for itself. The war is losing popular support back home, especially with the lace incident. I request that you approach Nasuada about the lace. She's ruining people's livelihoods. I doubt she'll do much… Regardless, you owe it to the people to bring it up. Most likely she'll use it to ask for more money._

_ Refuse. We can't afford to be paying for this war. Actually, reduce the support if you can manage it._

_ Enough of that. Riley's come to tell me that the messenger has come for the letters. I miss you greatly._

_ ~ Faellie Langfeld_

Orrin heaved a sigh, thinking of the argument with Nasuada that would inevitably arise from his cousin's advice. He bit his lip, surveying the unopened letter grimly. The Greylay's letter couldn't possibly be very comforting.

_Your majesty, King Orrin,_

_ Greetings, I regret that this letter will be a source of worry. Schuyler's informed me that Galbatorix accepted two more magicians into the ranks of the Black Hand. It seems that the rider and the Varden have managed to worry him. Galbatorix will be looking for ways to ensure that the army splinters. Guard yourself closely. You should also warn the other leaders._

_ Enclosed is an enchanted mirror. I expect that this will be useful for the conversations that are too delicate for letters. Draumr Kόpa._

_~Riley Greylay_

Orrin groaned. This wasn't turning out well.

**Hazelcloud: Readers, I have a challenge for you, how many of you know the names of the (only) four Canon characters for Surda? **


	3. Chapter 2

**Hazelcloud: I'd like to thank Solangedrama and The Meepsta for their kind reviews. Oh, and the four canon Surdans are King Orrin, the late King Larkin, Irwin (prime minister), and the seneschal Dahwar, son of Kedar.**

**Ch. 2**

The next meeting did not seem like it was going to turn out any better, Orrin thought. He stood outside the tent about to enter when he heard the voices within mention his name.

"Orrin's still not here yet." A gruff voice spoke, undoubtedly King Orik.

"He'll show up. He's probably lost in some useless experiment." Nasuada's voice was scathing, and Orrin clenched his hands in anger. How dare she speak about him that way, it was unseemly.

"He's already here." That was Arya's voice, calm and warning. Orrin grimaced, he had to enter now or it would be suspicious. It's a pity that he no longer wished to see Nasuada… Orrin reached up and stepped into the tent, plastering on a fake smile. It would be more diplomatic to just ignore the insult that he should never have heard. Nasuada was smiling also, but Orrin could see the worry in the tightness of her expression.

"Good afternoon. I was held up dealing with a new report from my soldiers." Orrin said smoothly. Inside he was seething, he had shown up at the time they had agreed upon yesterday, but it seemed like the others had gathered earlier.

"Ah, we sent a messenger to find you. We decided to convene earlier…" Eragon said hesitantly. Orrin nodded stiffly, and sat in the empty seat that had been left for him. The meeting seemed awkward, the conversation having died now that its subject had entered. Orrin gathered his thoughts, and pulled the letter from his pocket.

"I have received a troubling report from my mages. Two new magicians have passed through Galbatorix's Black Hand initiations." Orrin fingered the letter as he served those gathered. He had their attention now. "Galbatorix is clearly worried about our gains in the field. He's going to try to eliminate the threat."

"Two? Are you sure?" Arya asked solemnly. Orrin resisted the urge to roll his eyes because he knew that she was already considering the threat.

"I bet my life on their information every day." Orrin said, thinking of how vital the mages were to security. Nasuada grimaced as she calculated the threat the Black Hand could pose.

"If they manage to take out any of our leaders we would be in a bind." She said. King Orik was nodding in agreement, and that sentiment was reflected in the serious expressions of all present.

"We need to act carefully. This war is too important to lose." King Orik warned. "We need to make sure that we all have guards or protection."

"The Nighthawks are capable. I am sure that they will be enough to counteract this threat." Nasuada said.

"The elves and I are already protecting Eragon, and we will be able to fend off any of the Black Hand." Arya said, and Eragon was nodding in agreement. Orrin had to admit that he wasn't too worried about the dragon rider. Eragon and the elves had vast amounts of magic and if they used it well, they would be safe. Everyone turned to look at Orrin, and he forced a smile.

"I will be speaking to my mages, perhaps, they can find some more information." Orrin said. None of the others noticed that he had not answered the question, he thought with relief. He needed to talk to his generals, and figure something out. His best mages were still in Surda, and that was enough to make him uneasy.

"Well, that is settled then." Nasuada nodded. Orrin gathered up his courage, and brought up the topic that he most wanted to avoid.

"You remember that we were discussing Surda's support yesterday." He began, wavering slightly as he saw the angry glares that he was receiving from the others, especially Nasuada.

"We are not discussing that now." Nasuada said firmly. Orrin sighed, as he fingered the letter, and continued on.

"Alright, but my advisors insist that I tell you that the Silk and Weaver's guilds have filed complaints about the lace." Orrin shifted the blame away from himself as he felt his nerve falter. He could never be as firm as Nasuada; just another of his failings. He wrenched his mind away from that train of thought.

"If they cannot compete that is not the Varden's problem. We are finished with this discussion Orrin." Nasuada's face was resolute, and Orrin feeling weak, bowed his head in acquiescence. "Good, then I believe that this meeting is finished."

Orrin sat stunned for a second. Finished? Were they not to discuss military tactics for Belatona or perhaps plans for Uru'Baen? The others were rising from their seats with sighs of relief, and he remembered that they had convened earlier without him. Doubtless, they had already discussed those points. He gritted his teeth, and exited the tent. It wasn't right that they excluded him. He was as committed to the cause as the rest, regardless of Nasuada's current opinion.

When he reached his tent, Orrin grimaced upon seeing that he had another letter waiting for him.

_Dearest Orrin,_

_All is well back on the homefront. You will be surprised by my terseness, I'm afraid, but it is necessary. Schuyler, Riley, and I are very busy searching through the old library of the castle. Your father had a most detailed collection of maps, some from the earlier kings of Surda. We believe that there is a chance that among these maps that there will be one of Uru'Baen or one of the other cities, Belatona perhaps? I'm sure that they would expose some of the more guarded secrets of the cities. I will keep you updated._

_I expect to be hearing from you soon. Riley says that the mirror ought to have reached you before this letter…_

_~Faellie Langfeld_

Orrin sighed, he had failed to obtain any satisfactory answers to her previous questions and he did not want to have to explain his failure. Perhaps, they would not try to contact him through the mirror yet. He glanced over at the silvery mirror that lay on the little crate that was serving as his table in the field tent. It glittered in the candlelight, mocking him.

Suddenly, it shone brightly and began to pulse. Orrin stared at it in growing horror. _No! I'm not ready, I can't talk to you right now!_ He thought frantically as he sat frozen, watching the mirror. It continued to pulse with light for another minute before growing dark. He breathed a sigh of guilty relief, and went to bed trying to ignore the niggling thought that his cousin would be worried now…

In another tent, a similar mirror began to pulse. The muffled figure sat up, disentangling himself from the blanket on the cot, as he reached blindly for the mirror. It pulsed again, and he rubbed sleep from his eyes and murmured drowsily.

"_Draumr kόpa?_" The mirror stopped pulsing and the light marshaled itself into a blurry picture. The soldier peered at it blearily. "I was sleeping…" He grumbled.

"You got the mirror then?" It was more of a statement then a question, spoken in the voice of another young man. The soldier yawned, and nodded.

"It would be hard to answer you if I didn't have the mirror." He pointed out. There was a tired chuckled from the figure in the mirror.

"Felix, he's not answering." A worried female voice interrupted. Felix rubbed his eyes, and straightened, as she appeared on the mirror's surface.

"I know that he received it. Maybe he was sleeping like I was Faellie."

"I'm sorry, Felix, really I am. I know you need the sleep but Orrin wouldn't just ignore it right? You answered!" Faellie said, her voice angry. Felix stifled another yawn, and tried to think of a reason for Orrin.

"I don't know." He said. Faellie sighed in frustration. "Look, I have to meet with him tomorrow to discuss tactics but afterward I'll talk to him for you. Alright?"

"Thank you, Felix." Faellie said gratefully, and the image shifted as the mirror was passed back to the young man. Felix waited, as the young man seemed hesitant to speak. He heard the sounds of a door shutting, and guessed that Faellie had left.

"So, what_ is_ the matter Riley?" Felix asked, as he reached over to light a candle. Tonight seemed like it was going to be a long night.

"I've been monitoring the mages, and one of them is no longer in the Varden camp." Riley said.

"No longer in the camp?" Felix muttered puzzled. None of the mages had been assigned any tasks that would require them to leave…

"According to my information, the mage is heading towards Uru'Baen." Riley paused to let the information sink in. Felix was frowning now. "And I haven't received any of the reports from the mage either."

"Wonderful." Felix massaged his temples, and stared balefully back at Riley. "So what do you want me to do about that?"

"I need you to find whoever is posing as the mage, and take care of them." Riley said bluntly. Felix heaved a long suffering sigh.

"You do realize that I am more of a healer than a general right?" Felix asked. Riley snorted in dry amusement.

"As if Felix, you've received more arms and tactics training than most of Orrin's generals. You just wish you were a healer."

"Indeed, life would be so much simpler." Felix said.

"So?" Riley prompted.

"I'll do it. Who did you say again?" Felix asked. Riley smiled triumphantly, and Felix rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say. It was Tayr Braylon." Riley said. Felix mulled over this information, and found the silver lining in the fact that he barely recognized the name.

"Well… at least it was an outsider." He said. Riley glared at him.

"We don't have a lot of mages to work with Felix. Just do your job, okay?"

"Yes, yes, Riley. I'll do it right away tomorrow morning. Surely it can wait till then…" Felix said.

"That's up to you." Riley said. He turned to look at something out of the range of the mirror, and Felix waited impatiently for his attention to return. Riley turned back, and grimaced. "Oh, and Felix, please take some backup with you. I'd hate to hear that you were hurt because of this."

"Of course. Good night Riley." Felix said, and he dropped the spell on the mirror. It had barely faded to normal, before he had blown out the candle, and tumbled back into bed.

**Hazelcloud: So, what do you think? I'd love to know.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hazelcloud: Thanks to Solangedrama and The Meepsta, I'm sorry that I haven't replied to your reviews yet. Life's been crazy!**

**Ch. 3**

Felix sighed, the sun was just beginning to rise, and he already was dreading the day ahead. He wished Riley had asked someone else to 'take care' of the imposter. Didn't he have enough responsibilities? He dragged himself out of the cot, and dressed quickly. If he hurried, he thought that he could probably finish this business before he had to meet with Orrin for the Surdan war meeting. He glanced at the magic mirror, and ran his fingers through his orange hair, marveling at how alert he looked. He didn't feel like he had gotten enough sleep lately to look that awake.

He pushed the flap of the tent open, and strode out into the camp. He kept a brisk pace, as he scanned the few people awake and outside, looking for some suitable backup. What he really needed was another Surdan mage, or a Varden spellcaster. He rounded the corner of another tent, and smacked into another person headed the opposite direction. The person fell to the ground, and Felix stumbled backward.

"I'm sorry. I was in a hurry. I didn't see you there." Felix apologized, as he held out a hand to pull the man to his feet.

"No… It was my fault." The man stuttered haltingly, nervous, Felix thought. He narrowed his eyes in thought as he scanned the man before him. He recognized him from something… The man shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, and turned a nervous glance at the other man who he had been talking to. Felix blinked in recognition.

"You're Carn, right? You previously served under Martland Redbeard." Felix said. The nervous man, Carn, agreed quietly, and Felix smiled in triumph. Here was a spell caster, below average at magic, but still a spell caster. "I need your help with something."

"Oh? Okay…" Carn cast a nervous glance at the other man. Felix resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"If you want, he can come too. But we need to hurry." Felix said impatiently. The imposter needed to be dealt with swiftly before he could cause a lot of trouble. The other man agreed to accompany them, and Felix wondered if he had met this man too. He would remember him later… "Alright. Come along!"

With the two in tow, Felix hurried off down the path, heading towards another tent. He had memorized where the tents of the Surdan mages were, and he doubted that the imposter would have changed tents. That would have destroyed his cover. No, the imposter would be unaware that his cover had been blown, thinking that he was secure pretending to be Tayr Braylon, Felix was confident of it. He paused a few tents away, and turned to look at his two companions. Both were wearing identical expressions of annoyance, and curiosity.

"Alright. Carn I need you to scan the area around that tent and see if there are any spells set up that would give away our presence." Felix said, pointing at the tent. Carn paled, and Felix found himself wondering if he had chosen the right person.

"Um… I can do that." Carn mumbled but he made no move to begin the spell. Felix lifted an eyebrow in doubt. The two exchanged glances and the other man spoke up.

"You seem to know us but we don't know who you are." The man said, and he fiddled with the hammer at his waist. Felix's eyes widened in recognition, and he felt a little nervous.

"Oh…" He breathed. "Roran Stronghammer, cousin of the shur'tugal. Oh, I hadn't realized."

"Yes, well who are you to be ordering us around." Roran asked, his eyes narrowing. Felix grimaced, and hastily introduced himself.

"I'm General Felix, of his majesty Orrin's army." Felix said, and he unconsciously fiddled with the chunk of amethyst on the leather band at his wrist. "It's rather important that you help me with this mission, I will be sure to report your help to Nasuada, and the other Varden leaders, if you do."

"What exactly are we doing?" Carn asked, his eyes flickering nervously. Felix lowered his voice, and nodded towards the tent.

"The man inside the tent is posing as a Surdan mage, but I have information pointing to his involvement in the Black Hand." He said. Carn looked shocked but Roran's face was set in grim determination.

"Let's do this then. Carn focus, and search for spells around the tent." Roran ordered the other man. Carn seemed to take courage from Roran and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and whispering out a spell. A tense minute later, he opened his eyes and nodded.

"I've disabled the spells without attracting his attention." Carn assured them, and he seemed a little tired. Felix examined him worriedly, and wondered if the spells had been too complicated and taxing. Roran seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Carn nodded wordlessly, and Roran turned back to Felix. "Shall we go then?" Felix nodded, and the three of them headed off towards the tent. Quietly, they drew back the tent flap and entered.

The spell caster whirled around at the sound of their entry, and bristled. The man's eyes were wild, and feral looking with worry. He began to mouth words, and Roran leapt forward to crash into the man, swinging his hammer at the man's knee. There was a sickening crack, as the kneecap shattered under the hammer's momentum, and the man collapsed to the ground. Felix jumped forward, and kneeled on one shoulder as he wrestled the man to the ground. Roran grabbed the other shoulder, and Carn began muttering. Felix pulled out a thin slip of paper folded to contain a powder while struggling to hold the man down with the other arm.

Roran managed to pin both shoulders down, and Felix wrapped one hand around the man's throat. Slowly, he squeezed cutting of the man's airway stopping his muttering. The man began to gasp for air desperately, and Felix poured the powder down the man's throat. The wild eyes widened in panic at the taste, and then the whole body shuddered. Felix leapt back, and pulled Roran with him. The man convulsed wildly, his whole body racked with shudders, as he clawed at his throat. Then he went limp, and his eyes rolled up into his head. Felix nudged the body with one foot, and it twitched. Felix knelt down next to the body, and gripped one limp wrist, searching for a pulse. He waited, and felt nothing.

"Is he dead?" Carn asked. Felix nodded, and stood brushing his hands off on his tunic. Roran was eyeing the paper packet with wary distaste.

"What was that?" Roran asked.

"Poison from the blackwood plant, of a variety that spreads quickly throughout the whole body in seconds, it attacks the body, and airways, killing the victim." Felix said, tucking the paper packet that had contained the poison back within his cloak. "It's almost fitting to have the Black Hand die by it. It's one of Galbatorix's favorites, he frequently tries to have it slipped to the Surdan nobles."

"But why do you have it?" Roran asked suspicious. Felix understood his suspicion but thought that it was rather belated. They had already assisted him, if he was the enemy they would have been in a heap of trouble already.

"Orrin had brewed up a lot of it when he was experimenting with the effectiveness of antidotes. I took some thinking that it would be useful." Felix said. He turned his attention back to the body. "What should we do about him?"

"Well, we can't leave it here." Carn pointed out. Felix nodded and glanced around the room. He spotted the desk and walked over. It's scarred wood surface was covered with little magical knick-knacks, powders, knives, oils, and charms. Felix reached out, and Carn gasped in warning.

"Be careful! Don't touch those." Carn warned. Felix flashed him a reassuring smile.

"I know." He reached out and picked up a little vial of clear oil. "My foster family are very experienced mages, and while infinitely less talented I have some knowledge."

"Foster family?" Roran asked, and Felix shook his head slightly. He didn't want to explain_ that_ situation… He pulled the cork of the vial, and wafted some of the fumes toward him so he could catch the scent. It was sickly sweet, and Felix gagged slightly. He walked over to the body, and poured the oil liberally over it. The vial he placed back on the table, and withdrew two stones from his cloak.

"We should probably stand back… that was a lot of oil." Felix said as he back up, and struck the stones together. "_Brisingr!_" A single spark flew from the stones, landing on the corpse. It caught fire instantly, flaring up hot and blue. The sick burning smell of flesh, filled the tent before it was covered up by the overly sweet smell of the burning oil. All three gagged, and looked away as the flesh blackened. The oil sped up the burning, and burned out quickly.

When they looked back all that was left of the body was a scattered pile of ashes. Felix grimaced, and swept the ashes into a leather pouch. Roran, and Carn watched him silently. He finished and tossed the leather pouch from one hand to the other, smiling.

"So, who should I speak with in order to spread the word of your success?" Felix asked.

"Nasuada, I suppose." Roran said.

"Alright, lead the way General Stronghammer." Felix fell in step with Roran and Carn, and they left the tent without a backward glance. The serious determination of Felix, seemed to have melted away when the body of the imposter burned. His eyes seemed bright with laughter, and his whole face seemed more pleasant.

The Nighthawks announced their arrival at the main Varden tent, and the three of them were quickly ushered in. Nasuada stood facing them, wide awake and ready to confront the new day. She stiffened at the sight of the Surdan general. Felix walked forward, and bowed to kiss the back of her hand, before stepping back to stand next to Roran and Carn; both of them shocked.

"Greetings Lady Nasuada." Felix said. Nasuada smiled, and seemed relieved.

"General Felix, may I inquire as to the reason for your sudden visit?" Nasuada asked.

"I came to inform you of General Stronghammer, and Spell caster Carn's invaluable assistance with removing a member of Galbatorix's Black Hand." Felix said.

"Indeed, both are very valuable." Nasuada looked proud. Felix bowed again, and tossed the leather pouch of ashes back and forth between his hands.

"Well, I must be going. I'm afraid I'm due at a tactics meeting, right about now." Felix said. He nodded to each of them in turn. "Lady Nasuada. General Stronghammer, and Carn, thank you once again." And then he was gone, striding briskly out of the tent.

*Line Break*

There was a shrill whistle, and then the tent flap was pulled back. A disheveled Felix swept in, his orange hair unruly, blue eyes bright, and a huge smile on his face. He held a leather pouch in one hand, that was tied carefully shut.

"I'm sorry that I am late. I was side tracked." Felix apologized. His gaze moved between the three people sitting there in the tent, and frowned. "Where is everyone?"

"Jumped ship. Joined the rebels. Abandoned their leader to join the Varden." One of the men drawled, ticking the sentences off on his fingers. The other snorted in amusement, and rolled his eyes.

"Oh very tactful, Lockwood." He said. "Felix, haven't you been paying any attention. When Orrin ceded the control of the army to Nasuada, he gave up direct control over every part of his army except for the cavalry, and a few sections of foot soldiers and archers. Most of the generals therefore are only bound to answer Nasuada, and the other cavalry generals, and various commanders perished in the last few battles, especially dealing with the painless ones."

"Like that was any better, Lael." Lockwood snapped. "I'd say it's pretty suspicious. Galbatorix's soldiers have been very efficient at decimating our ranks."

"Why is Lockwood even here? He's not a general!" Lael asked. King Orrin sighed, and drummed his fingers on the table.

"Lockwood is here because he's useful, besides he is a commander and we don't have a lot of high ranking officials left." Orrin grimaced. "There're going to be some promotions."

"Pity, they don't come with an increase in pay." Lael complained but everyone knew that it was only half hearted.

"Give it a rest, Lael." Caesar Lockwood snapped.

"Lockwood and Lael! Stop. I think Felix has some important news for us." Orrin said.

"Spit it out then, instead of standing there grinning like an idiot." Lockwood snapped, still upset.

"It had better be good news…" Lael whispered. Felix rolled his eyes, still smiling brightly, and tossed the pouch to Orrin who caught it.

"Oh, it is. There you go, one less Black Hand out there for us to deal with." Felix announced. The others eyed the pouch with interest. Orrin opened it, and grimaced at the sight of the ashes.

"We are never that lucky… At what price, Felix?" Orrin asked softly. Felix grimaced too.

"Tayr Braylon, sir." He said. Orrin sighed, and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. "An outer circle mage, Riley says."

"Greylay was involved?" Toffer Lael had straightened. "When's he coming back to the front line with the rest of us?"

"He'll be back, whenever he has finished whatever he is working on back in Surda." Felix shrugged, and cast a curious glance at Orrin. Orrin looked away guiltily, thinking of how he had avoided speaking with him through the magic mirror.

"We need to get him back here. It sounds as though we are short on mages." Lael sighed, and Lockwood smirked.

"Can't handle the pressure?" The jibe ruffled Lael, and he straightened to glare at Lockwood.

"You can't possibly be suggesting that you don't think we need him. I know you've spent as much time as I have working." Toffer Lael snapped. Lockwood shrugged the suggestion off, but his tired eyes were proof of the statement. Orrin slammed a fist to the table, and the bickering pair shut up.

"Now, we were focusing on action. What are we going to do about the spies, and planning for the siege of Belatona." Orrin asked. All three leaned over the map, and stared down at the vague sketch of Belatona. The lines were fading, the paper crumbling, and suspicious splotches marked the few streets and buildings on the map.

"I suggest we find a better map." Lockwood said after the trio scanned the map. "This map is rubbish."

"I agree. You should also call Greylay back to the front line." Lael had been staring at the map, his head propped up on his hand. Now he frowned at Orrin's reluctant expression. "Convince him of that, Felix."

"I'd also like to speak more with General Stronghammer, he helped with the disposal of the Black Hand magician today. I have heard very good reports on his leadership." Felix said. Lockwood and Lael both nodded in agreement, news of Roran Stronghammer had spread quickly throughout not only the Varden but also Surda.

"Lael, and I will inform the remaining mages of the danger. Alert, they should be relatively protected." Lockwood stood from the table. "I'd stay longer but I have a cavalry unit to whip into shape."

"Yes, I can't wait to start that." Lael agreed sarcastically, also standing and heading towards the door with Lockwood.

"Don't forget to bring names for promotion to the next meeting." Orrin called after them. Both men grimaced, and hurried out of the tent. Orrin turned to meet Felix's determined gaze, and one eyebrow lifted in response. "Go on, I can see you have something to say."

"You didn't answer the mirror yesterday." Felix said finally, a peculiar expression of worry on his face. Orrin didn't deny that.

"No I did not."

"Any reason?" Felix asked. Orrin looked away guiltily, and Felix sighed, frustrated. "You have worried your cousin half to death. Not to mention, clearly irritated Riley. Orrin as your closest friends, you no longer have the right to ignore us."

"I can do what pleases me." Orrin snapped, recoiling from the truth. Felix pursed his lips, and stared down at Orrin daring him to look away. Orrin did.

"Orrin, whatever is bothering you can't be worth avoiding your staunchest supporters. They are your _friends_ Orrin." Felix assured.

"Don't speak so familiarly to me. I am king." Orrin said, the guilt having overwhelmed him so that he lashed out. Felix's eyes hardened, and he stood up stiffly.

"Yes, sir." Felix's eyes flashed with resentment, and he bowed stiffly. "Goodbye, sir."

Orrin sighed deeply, and cradled his head in both hands, trying to ignore the guilt, as his friend whirled about, and left him alone with his demons.

*Line Break*

"Did you know him, milady?" Carn asked hesitantly. Nasuada smiled softly, and nodded.

"I met him in Aberon, when I was living in Borromeo Castle. He was a good friend of Orrin's, although younger. Very polite, and loyal. A trustworthy soldier." Nasuada explained.

"It strikes me as odd that he only introduced himself as General Felix. Surdans usually tack on their surname too." Carn mused. Nasuada gave him a sad smile.

"I'm afraid he doesn't have one anymore." She said.

"Anymore?" Roran frowned in confusion.

"His father is the current Duke of Knoll, and Felix was his only child from his first wife. After the death of his first wife, he couldn't stand to see his child because he reminded him of her. He had married a mistress shortly afterward, and she convinced him to disown the child in order to clear the path of succession for her own children. The Surdans believe that when a person is disowned they are stripped of their name." Nasuada explained seriously.

"Oh." Carn said. "That would explain the foster family."

"Foster family?" Nasuada muttered looking puzzled for a bit before recognition dawned. "Ah, you are referring to the Greylays."

"Why didn't he take their surname?" Roran asked curiously.

"The Greylays cared for him but were unable to actually adopt him. He gained his knowledge of magic and healing through their influence, and later went into the army and gained tactical experience. A very useful general, your work was a good way of getting his attention, and probably gaining his respect. A solid political move." Nasuada said.

"But it wasn't political? Was it?" Carn stuttered.

"You never know with Surdans." Nasuada said.

"Or the Varden apparently." Roran countered, shrugging unconcerned.

**Hazelcloud: I'm not entirely positive on Roran's rank. I couldn't figure out if he was a general or a commander. Basically Lael and Felix have the same rank as him, and Lockwood should be one rank below. Please pardon my confusion there.**

**Also, I just noticed that ffn is removing all of my line breaks...grr. I think I've fixed that issue now.**


	5. Interlude 1: Experiment in Poison

**Hazelcloud: Thanks to RestrainedFreedom for reviewing. Also this chapter takes place in the past, probably sometime during ****Eragon****.**

**Interlude 1- An Experiment in Poison**

Felix backed into the room, awkwardly supporting a small wooden crate full of holes. The contents of the crate emitted frightened squeaking noises whenever the crate was jostled. He turned and walked cautiously towards Orrin. The room was littered with glass instruments, and potions that were smoking ominously. He lowered the crate to the ground next to Orrin, and watched as Orrin ground a black leaf with a mortar and pestle till it became a fine powder. Orrin poured the powder into a glass jar nearby that already contained a significant amount of the powder. Felix eyed it warily, he recognized the plant.

"What are you doing with the Blackwood leaves?" He asked. Orrin reached for another couple of the mottled black leaves, and began to grind them into a powder furiously.

"Creating the Blackwood poison." Orrin said. Felix arched an eyebrow, and crossed his arms, careful not to touch any of Orrin's concoctions.

"Yes, I realized that. But why?" He asked patiently. Orrin fixed a gaze on Felix that seemed to imply that the answer should have been obvious.

"I'm tired of constantly worrying that Galbatorix will finally manage to slip me this darn powder." Orrin said.

"Then why are you making more of it? And is this crate full of mice like I think it is?" Felix said warily. Orrin perked up, and glanced down at the crate, smiling brightly.

"Oh, excellent! Now the experiment can proceed. I'm working on an antidote and the mice will serve as suitable test subjects." Orrin said.

"But no one has made a suitable antidote before now." Felix pointed out realistically. "What makes you any different?"

"Superior research." Orrin said. "I had a couple of Surdan mages analyze the effects of the poison on the body. It attacks the airways first, so a logical antidote would target the airways first." Orrin gestured towards another row of vials of liquid, and various powders. Felix stepped closer to read the labels on them, and recognized them as fulfilling the requirements that Orrin had outlined.

"You might want the antidote to be a liquid. It would be hard to force a powder down the throat of a victim." Felix sighed: both Surdans had witnessed the violent seizures that characterized the Blackwood poison.

"Exactly. The problem is that all of these antidotes were created for other poisons and none is effective on the Blackwood poison. Some are partially effective and lessen the pain but the victim usually passes on within minutes." Orrin explained, as Felix observed the bottles.

"So, your theory is that if you create a suitable mixture you might create a viable antidote." Felix guessed. Orrin nodded in agreement, and pointed at another row of glass beakers. Each contained pure water, he explained.

"The Blackwood poison will be mixed into water, and then given to the test subjects. It will be diluted that way, but Galbatorix seems to enjoy slipping it in drinks not forcing it down a victim's throat." Felix froze suddenly, and looked down at the crate nervously.

"And… thus the mice?" He guessed. Orrin nodded silently, and turn to gather a dropper full of the poison, and another dropper of a possible antidote.

"Pick one of them for me." Orrin said, his hands full with the droppers. Felix grimaced and pried the lid off of the crate. He tried to ignore the frightened squeak of the mice within, and lifted one out. He held it nervously, trying to ensure that it did not have the chance to work its teeth on his hands. Orrin lifted the poison dropper, and Felix managed to pin the mouse so that Orrin could pour the droppers contents into its mouth.

The effect was almost immediate, Felix could feel the shudder that ran through the mouse's body, and the little heart beat twice. Orrin poured the second dropper into the mouse's mouth, and waited, staring intently at the mouse, lying in Felix's hands. Felix stared in horror as the little scrap of fur twitched, and squeaked pitifully. He could feel its feeble heart beating overly fast, and then with one last racking shudder the mouse fell still. Felix set the mouse on the table, gently and collapsed to his knees. He took deep breaths, and tried to ignore the churning of his stomach and the knot in his throat. Orrin watched him worriedly, silently; he knew Felix would speak when he could. Felix swallowed, trying to ignore his dry throat.

"I've seen death but Orrin… it's…" Felix trailed off, and gestured weakly with his hands. Orrin smiled sadly, his whole face radiating weariness. He looked exhausted, and worn, older than his age.

"Cruel? It's science, it's all for the sake of progress." He said coolly. Felix's head jerked up sharply, like a puppet's, shocked.

"You don't believe that." Felix said. Orrin cared too much about people for him to believe that. "Why?"

"Because every time I look at that mouse, I think that it could be you or Faellie lying there dying. I couldn't stand that, I can't lose anyone else." Orrin said seriously. Felix climbed shakily to his feet, and winced at the serious atmosphere.

"I'm sorry." Felix flinched as Orrin filled another two droppers. "I can't do this."

"It's alright, Felix. Send Riley in, he'll help." Orrin reassured him. Felix nodded, and made a quick retreat, ignoring the pitiful squeaks of the mice. To his relief Riley was standing outside the door already, and entered when Felix opened the door, and left.

A week or so had passed before Felix found himself again in Orrin's laboratory. Riley was smirking, and allowing a little mouse to run over his hands; Orrin had a triumphant grin. Orrin's cousin, and his good friend Faellie had also been called to the laboratory. He felt her stiffen in shock as she caught sight of the living mouse, and the few bodies of dead mice on the table that seemed to have been dissected.

"What have you been up to Orrin?" Faellie asked shocked, and curious. She held a good deal of respect for her cousin's experiments. He did too, come to think of it; Orrin always planned everything out, and was always finding ways to turn his hobby into something useful.

"Watch." Orrin said dramatically. He gently lifted a mouse, and turned to Riley. "The poison if you will." Riley picked up the dropper, and poured the liquid down the mouse's throat. It squealed in pain, and Faellie gasped in horror. After a few seconds, Orrin poured another dropper of liquid into the mouse. The shuddering mass of fur quieted, and Faellie and Felix stepped forward to look closer at the mouse. It crouched shakily in Orrin's palm, weak but alive. Felix could feel the surprise evident on his face.

"You did it." He said.

"But of course." Orrin was smiling, grey eyes shining with relief and triumph.


	6. Chapter 4

**Ch. 4**

Eragon sat alone in the room that he had been provided in the castle of Feinster. It was comfortable, with a soft bed, a table, a matching wood chair, and a small dresser that seemed woefully empty when he had put his few extra tunics in it. The stone walls seemed too close, Eragon thought, compared to the open tents that the Varden lived in while on the move. Eragon was anxious to continue moving, the longer the Varden stayed camped in Feinster the more aggravated the citizens would be, and the more time Galbatorix would have to respond to the threat the Varden posed. He knew that he didn't have a plan to face Galbatorix quite yet, but he feared that the Varden would become too comfortable in Feinster, and comfort breeds weakness.

Eragon reached into his leather pouch, and pulled out an object that was carefully wrapped in a soft cloth. He placed it on the little wooden table, and unwrapped it to reveal Glaedr's eldunari. The eldunari was larger than his fist, and shone warm and golden in the candlelight of the room. Eragon reached and gently brushed the eldunari, it felt as smooth as marble but it was warm from the soul of the dragon. Eragon's mind touched Glaedr's and was tossed into a maelstrom of despair and loneliness. Eragon felt as though he was drowning in the sorrow emanating from Glaedr's consciousness.

There was a knock at the door of his room, and that provided enough of a stimulus for Eragon to pull free of Glaedr's sorrow. Eragon stood shakily, and opened the door. Standing just on the other side about to knock again was Arya. Her green eyes seemed tinged with weariness and sorrow. Eragon understood, he had lost his teacher, and the elves were as shaken by Oromis and Glaedr's deaths as he was. Eragon stepped aside and allowed her entrance to his room. Arya stepped in with a grateful smile, and she moved towards Glaedr's eldunari. She brushed her fingers over the smooth surface, and also felt Glaedr's pain.

"We cannot lose. All of his pain must not be for nothing." Arya spoke in a hushed voice. Eragon nodded in agreement, her words echoes the thoughts that had been running through his mind since his mentors deaths.

"We will." Eragon said sounding much more confident than he felt. Arya looked over at him, her green eyes meeting his gaze steadily as though searching his soul to measure his determination. Whatever she saw there must have pleased her, for a small smile appeared on her face. Eragon felt his heart flutter, and looked away nervously.

"Has he spoken at all?" Arya asked gesturing towards Glaedr's eldunari. Eragon shook his head, and Arya grimaced. "He's still grieving then. I'm sure he will contact us when he has dealt with his grief sufficiently."

"I hope so but losing Oromis will have been like losing a part of himself. I cannot even imagine life without Saphira." Eragon shuddered as he looked at the golden eldunari. Life without the partner of his heart, Saphira, would be unbearable and he could understand why Glaedr was inconsolable.

"He will come back to himself. Everyone is called to be strong in times of distress, times like these." Arya said and Eragon could sense the words behind that. The war was breaking Alagaesia but at the same time bringing out the real strength in Alagaesia's people.

"We need to keep moving. To continue staying in Feinster would cause more harm than good." Eragon said. "Every day we spend here is another day that Galbatorix can prepare for our arrival." Arya was silent as she considered his argument, and Eragon waited for her answer.

"What you say is true but Eragon… have you any idea what to do if you do face Galbatorix?" Arya asked. Eragon shook his head, and she continued. "Then it would be equally harmful to rush into a confrontation."

"You're right. It's just I have no idea how we can ever match Galbatorix when he has the power of so many eldunari, and Murtagh." Eragon sighed, and sat down at one of the stools. Arya sat across from him and smiled softly.

"We will face him the same way we did the shades. Together we are more powerful than alone." Arya reassured him, and Eragon found himself smiling also.

"Yes." He said and a thought struck him. "Speaking of being together, I'm a little worried about Nasuada and Orrin."

"Nasuada and Orrin?" Arya propped her chin up on her hand, and looked thoughtful. "What about them?"

"Surely you've noticed!" Eragon said surprised. When Arya was silent, he continued on. "Orrin has been more… upset than usual. He's never been anything but supportive but at the last few meetings he has seemed resentful."

"He had letters in his hands during the last meeting. Perhaps there has been trouble in Surda." Arya suggested. Eragon mulled the idea over, and found that it fit quite well.

"That would explain his agitation but why was he so upset about the Varden's lace-making?" Eragon wondered.

"From what I understand most of the people of Surda are involved in the Lace or Weaver Guilds." Arya explained.

"Does Nasuada know this?" Eragon wondered. Arya nodded, and Eragon shrugged uncomfortably. "Then she must know what she is doing. She knows that the Surdans are a valuable ally."

"Indeed. Together we are strong but alone we would fall." Arya said reaching out to brush Glaedr's eldunari again.

_Together._

Eragon and Arya started at the sound, and turned wide eyes onto the golden eldunari. The eldunari was now glowing with a strong golden light and it seemed to brighten the tiny room.

_Together_. Glaedr repeated again. _Perhaps as long as we are together everything is not as bleak as it seems._

"Glaedr!" Both of them exclaimed at the same time. The eldunari seemed to shake slightly, and they heard Glaedr's rumbling chuckle.

_Little ones. I am sorry to have left you alone for so long._ Glaedr said.

"It's alright. We understand that you have lost so much. You need the time to grieve." Eragon said.

_I may need the time but it is time that I do not have. Soon we will be faced with decisions, and challenges that we cannot fail._ Glaedr said solemnly. _And if we do not stand together, we will fall._


	7. Chapter 5

**Thanks again to RestrainedFreedom. Well everyone, we've reached one of the longest chapters...it's my current favorite. :)**

**Ch. 5**

Riley Greylay had been described as many things throughout his life: sly, manipulating, cold, and driven were all common descriptions, friend and brother were less common, but pleasant, _pleasant_, was not the word to describe him. Especially not when he was busy working as he was at the moment.

Dark blue eyes watched the shivering magician huddling before him in the cell. The man was covered in sweat, shivering and clothed in black. Riley had no doubt that this man was one of Galbatorix's Black Hand, in fact he had known of the man as soon as he had tried to worm his way into the castle staff. Riley sneered, and the man flinched back, this was a pathetic excuse for a Black Hand. It was insulting that Galbatorix thought that he could fool a Greylay with such an obvious failure.

It was so obvious that it had been continually bothering Riley for the past few days. For days he had kept tabs on the man, watching who he spoke to, what jobs he performed, searching for clues or signs that there was another insider on the case. Nothing. Finally he had given in and hauled the spy into the interrogation room. The man's expression had been priceless, shocked and dismayed. Riley had taken a cold pleasure from the fact that while his education had been lacking in many areas that he knew of the reputation of the Greylays.

Sly, manipulating, cold, cruel. Oh, he knew what words were used to describe the Greylays. He had helped build the reputation, after all.

"Please… I don't know anything." The man whimpered, his tone pleading as he shrank back against the wall. Riley jerked his attention back to the man and fixed him with a harsh glare.

"That is a lie." Riley said evenly, noting how the man flinched and refused to meet his eyes. Guilty as charged, he knew more than he was talking about.

"Really, sir. I don't know anything. Please… please don't hurt me." The man was practically groveling now. All of his words lacked the convincing honesty that would have provoked mercy. No, the man was after something, stalling for time, perhaps?

Riley frowned. _Stalling_ for _time_. Of course, how could he have been so stupid? Riley rubbed at his eyes, knowing the dark shadows there gave away some of his exhaustion. He had been so busy trying to keep Aberon under control, after the Varden had quite suddenly purged it of his carefully monitored spies. He was losing his edge, and desperately needed sleep. The adrenaline from his new revelation surged through him, and Riley hoped that it could see him through the new crisis.

Riley gestured, his hands flying through a pattern, and the man slumped over the wind knocked out of him, unable to scream. Grimly, Riley broke down the shields around the man's mind. Faintly, he could feel the pain inflicted when the shield shattered like glass, and heard the man's panicked scream. Riley grasped the information that he had been searching for, found everything he needed in one name.

Faellie Langfeld.

Damn. Riley cursed, and motioned angrily at the man. He was so upset that he did not even bother with the gestures that he usually used to perform magic, instead spitting the ancient language like a curse. "_Deyja._"

The man slumped over, and Riley spun on his heel and hurried from the room not bothering with the door. There was no need to lock in a corpse.

The hallways flew past him, his mind focused on searching out Faellie. Riley turned a corner and found himself facing an equally agitated black wolf. Torix, had thick black fur except for the white ruff on his chest, and a habit of barring his teeth, exposing the sharp fangs when he was upset. Such was the case at the moment.

"Faellie." Riley said succinctly. The wolf turned about, scenting the air and hurried off leading the way. Riley felt a wave of relief, the wolf would be able to locate Faellie with more ease that he could have alone.

"The spy confessed that there is another who will be making an attempt on her life." Riley explained as they ran.

_Confessed, right._ Torix chuckled, a rough sound emanating from his chest. Riley grinned coldly, and nodded. _What took you so long to figure it out Greylay?_

"It shouldn't have but I've been preoccupied trying to locate all of the new spies in Aberon. There are so many new ones, this one must have slipped through." Riley grimaced, and Torix wisely said nothing. He knew how frustrated Riley was, and knew that the man would be blaming himself for the failure.

_We're close. Ready yourself. _Torix warned, and Riley nodded in agreement. He called up his magic, holding it just within reach in his mind, and slipped a dagger from his tunic. The pair rounded the corner, and came face to face with an anxious Faellie.

There was blood on her dress, and her hair had fallen slightly from the complicated braids that it had been woven in. Her eyes were hard, and determined, one hand gripping a bloody dagger. Riley recognized the look in her eyes, fear was there but the will to survive was stronger.

"Duck." Riley informed her as they almost collided. Faellie complied immediately, the trust between the two Surdans strong from years of close friendship. Riley lifted a hand, and whispered a spell as he threw the dagger in his hand.

The dagger collided with the figure that hurtled along the hallway after Faellie, striking him hard enough to make him stagger. Torix launched himself at the man, teeth and claws tearing easily into the soft flesh. Riley battled with the man's mental shields, hammering into them with as much force as he could manage. The shields held strong but Riley could feel them waver as the pain the man was experiencing increased. Riley gritted his teeth, and his fingers formed the gestures for another spell as he continued to attack the man's mind.

Torix continued savaging the man, who tried to hold him off with a dagger and what magic he could muster. It was too difficult for him to manage much of a defense let alone an offense for he found himself facing two opponents at once. Riley's spell snapped the bones of the man's legs and he screamed. Riley trembled from the effort, and slammed into the shields again. Torix bit down hard, and a wrist shattered. The shriek was chilling, and the shields collapsed. Riley launched himself in and pillaged the mind, looting it of the necessary information with a ruthless efficiency.

Satisfied with what he had obtained, Riley withdrew and gestured to Torix. The wolf ended the man's life, quickly as he tore the throat open and Riley extinguished the man's mind. Riley sighed and reached out to press one hand to the wall, leaning on it. A hand wrapped around his other arm, and he turned to look at Faellie as she silently supported him. Torix moved to sit in front of them, black fur matted and teeth stained red.

"It wasn't your fault." Faellie said, knowing how Riley's thoughts would run now that the crisis had passed. "I'm alright. Most of the blood isn't mine." She took a shuddering breath.

"Most of it?" Riley asked, suddenly alert as he surveyed her, trying to find the injury. Faellie gazed back at him confidently. There was a scratch on her arm, probably the cause of the bleeding. Riley gripped her arm, and touched the wound, dipping his fingers in the blood as he tested the wound for poison with magic. Faellie let out a hiss of discomfort, and pulled her arm away when he sighed in relief.

"Like I said. I'm fine." Faellie said, wrapping her arm with a strip of cloth that had been tied in her hair.

"Could have been poisoned or killed or worse." Riley grumbled unhappily. Faellie rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms across her chest; the normally intimidating pose was ruined by the blood staining her dress and her disheveled hair. Their test of wills was broken by the arrival of a nervous Surdan official.

"What! What happened here?" The man squeaked, looking sickly green at the sight of the corpse lying on the floor and the appearances of the two Surdans and the wolf.

"Ah, Irwin. It was an assassination attempt." Riley answered quickly, addressing the Surdan official politely. Irwin wrung his hands nervously, and seemed very overwhelmed.

"I thought Aberon was safe!" Irwin muttered uneasily.

"Nowhere will be safe until this war is over." Faellie said sadly. "Irwin, I need to talk to you in the throne room later. I need to clean up but will meet you there right after. Good day, gentlemen." Faellie dropped a swift curtsey, and headed back towards her room, Torix in tow.

"Right!" Irwin looked relieved to have something to do, and bid Riley a polite farewell as he hastened to the throne room.

Riley stood leaning against the wall for a few more minutes, eyeing the body distastefully.

"Now what am I supposed to do with you?"

_Line break…_

The throne room was silent when Faellie reappeared, the prime minister of Surda, Irwin, and the mage Riley had gathered there but they had little to discuss. Irwin was uncomfortable in the presence of the mage after the gruesome scene that he had stumbled upon in the morning. The thought of it still made him sick. Faellie Langfeld stepped into the room, and both of their heads snapped up to look at her.

She smiled in greeting, and reflexively smoothed the fabric of the long sleeved dress that she had changed into, it was in the style of the fancy court dresses favored by the noble's daughters. Her hair had been rewoven into the braids, and the blood carefully cleaned from her arm and face. She walked to them quickly, and curtseyed.

"Gentlemen." Faellie greeted them. Riley and Irwin bowed politely, and then stood in silence. "In view of recent events I have decided that it would be safest for me to travel to join Orrin."

"M'lady?" Irwin's expression was that of confusion and disbelief. Riley's face was blank, she knew that he disapproved but would not argue against her yet.

"I am in charge of the finances for the war and Surda, yes?" Faellie said. Irwin nodded in agreement and satisfied Faellie continued. "It is proving impossible to control the spending of the army from back in Surda. Our communication is quick but even the most well reasoned arguments lose their effectiveness with distance."

"The King is ignoring your advice?" Irwin guessed before realizing he had spoken and flushed red. It was not his job to pry into the family matters of the Langfeld's but he had noticed the young woman's agitation and guessed that she had not heard from her cousin.

"Yes." Faellie answered, politely ignoring the prime minister's discomfort. "It would also be easier to protect the two of us if we were closer together."

"I understand." Irwin said quietly.

"Excellent. I will be speaking with Schuyler and after I am done with him I will be leaving." Faellie said firmly. Riley's frown deepened, and he glared at the ground.

"Schuyler Greylay, why?" Irwin wanted to know.

"He has been researching Uru'Baen as I requested. Now, I know you will be continuing your official duties but I would be much obliged if you would keep me informed with the state of affairs in Surda while I am absent." Faellie informed him.

"As you wish, M'lady." Irwin said politely before excusing himself. Riley bowed to Faellie before turning and sweeping out of the room without a goodbye. Faellie took a deep calming breath, and moved to find Schuyler Greylay.

_Line Break…_

The shadowed room was eerily empty, the heavy tomes that graced the many shelves adding immeasurable weight to the silence. The grey stone walls that completely surrounded the room were sturdy, and old; a good measure of the strength of the castle they belonged to. Rich brown oak shelves were arranged around the room leaving a small clearing in the middle that was occupied only by a parchment covered table and two small wood stools. Two wax candles sat on the table, short and stubby, a physical testament to the use of the room.

Footsteps echoed throughout the room emanating from the hallway that connected the room to the rest of the castle. The footsteps paused outside the oak door and the silvery metal knob squeaked slightly as it turned. The door shifted open with only a small groan, and the person entered, shutting the heavy door carefully behind them.

The individual walked slowly through the room heading for the center clearing. A pale hand reached out and fingers gently caressed the worn and faded titles, tracing the golden letters that shone so brightly against the leather bound bindings. Not a trace of dust was on the fingers when they were glanced at seconds later, and a smile graced the face of the figure. The study was well-cared for exactly the way her cousin would want it, she reflected.

She lifted the candle and bronze holder that she grasped in one hand and the faint light provided some help. Deep shadows cloaked the corners of the room, and she paused, her _**brown**_ eyes sweeping the area searching for hidden spies. Torix, the black wolf, had slipped into the room behind her and padded around breathing in the scents of the room. Upon finding no sign of intruders, he settled down under the desk, content to watch the door. Having made sure of the safety she set the candle on the desk, carefully clearing a small spot of the scraps of parchment that littered the entire table, and then she used the candle to light the other two that sat on the desk.

Light flared up casting a warm and friendly glow about the previously dark study, illuminating the features of the young woman standing at the table. She calmly began to clear the table of clutter. She worked efficiently as though she had done this before so many times it was almost a habit. Gently, she stacked the scraps of parchment, and closed a large book that was lying open on the table, placing it meticulously on the shelf behind her in the space that awaited it.

She turned back to the desk and stared at the flickering flames, idly watching the wax begin to drip off the holders and onto the table's polished chestnut surface. Long, thin fingers drummed on the table, the only sign of impatience, and the sound echoed through the room disturbing the heavy silence.

Footsteps rung out, even and steady, as though the person had not a worry in the world. A wry smile sprung to her lips for really who didn't have worries? A war was raging, and the whole of Alagaesia was embroiled in it. A knock rung crisply on the door, and her head jerked up. She stared at the heavy wood door, eyes locked on the handle, waiting.

"M'lady?" A voice said confidently. "It's Schuyler,"

"Come in, Schuyler," She said evenly. The door opened and an older man entered the room. She stared at him taking in the new lines on his face and the darker strands of silver that were beginning to show in his short black hair.

He glanced about the room, and turned to look at her. His blue eyes bored into hers as though he was searching her soul. Perhaps, he was… She stared back, waiting till he blinked. Then, he turned and carefully shut the heavy wood door. His back was turned towards her when he finally began to speak.

"I am?" His voice rose softly questioning, seeking.

"Schuyler Greylay, Eldest of the disgraced Greylay family, and the highest ranking Surdan Mage. Your middle name is not Fitzwilliam, and you have an extreme distaste for politics that is only matched by your hatred of the elves." She said steadily knowing that the recent assassination attempt was responsible for this increased scrutiny. Schuyler felt partially responsible for failing to prevent the attack.

"Indeed, you are Faellie Langfeld then" He said assured by hearing the description of himself. It was all formalities Faellie knew that he would have known who she was just by feeling the walls of her mind.

"To business then?" She asked softly. He motioned for her to stop, and lifted his hands up in front of him. The wrinkled fingers glowed slightly, and the air shivered with palpable magic.

"_Let our voices be shielded from others,_" He murmured in the ancient language, his voice deepening with the force of the magic. She stood watching him as he inspected the wards that he had set up. He turned to her after a few minutes and nodded.

"What is it, Schuyler?" She asked curious. The mage was a person of whom she was extremely fond, and who held a great deal of her respect for he was her teacher, and she viewed him as a grandfatherly sort of figure. For his part, Schuyler was also fond of her.

"I've found something that might be useful," Schuyler said simply, and from inside his heavy robe he extracted a cylindrical container of polished wood. He turned the container so that he could unscrew the cap on it, and carefully tilted it. There was a scraping sound as a roll of parchment slid out from inside the container. Schuyler unrolled the yellowed parchment carefully, and put light weights of the edges of the parchment so that it lay flat.

She leaned forward and scanned the paper, it was covered in a detailed drawing in clean clear black ink. It showed numerous routes into and out of a city, even including the outer wall of the city. Only one city would need such a detailed map in order to penetrate it.

"Uru'Baen?" She queried softly. Schuyler waited till she looked at him again before answering.

"Indeed, do you think it will be useful?" Schuyler asked though both of them knew that it was a rhetorical question for it would be invaluable if it was in the right hands. She sat down on the stool behind the desk and rested her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on them as she gazed at the map calculating.

"We will have to get it to him as soon as possible," She decided. Schuyler nodded his agreement and she knew that he had been expecting that answer.

"A supply train left just three days ago a messenger should be able to catch up with it," Schuyler said. She pressed her lips together and frowned but then nodded.

"That will have to do," She said. Schuyler reached for the parchment rolling it up quickly but carefully and sliding it into the container. He held the wood around the container under the candle and sealed the thin crack between the lid and the cap with wax. Then he pressed his ring into the wax stamping a crest in the wax.

"_Seal_," Schuyler said. Magic flared for a second and then disappeared.

"How am I supposed to open it?" She asked curious.

"You aren't. This is just to ensure that you don't leave without adequate protection," Schuyler said ignoring the half-hearted glare she directed at him.

"Could you spare Riley?" She asked, hoping that her friend would be able to accompany her. His company would be infinitely preferable to one of the nobles or advisors of Surda.

"Of course, I can manage. I am not one of the king's helpless advisors." Schuyler stated quietly, smiling fondly at her. She rolled her eyes at his sense of humor.

"Send him after me then," She said.

"Oh I will," Schuyler called after her.

She tucked the scroll into the sleeve of her long dress and strode out of the room, not glancing back. As the door swung shut behind her, Schuyler heard her footsteps speed up as she moved purposefully towards her rooms among the castle. Schuyler shook his head, wondering at youthful persistence, and perhaps admiring the energy. He reached out with his mind, searching for a mind similar to his own. He found it well fortified and knocked gently on the outer wall. The walls, then, were lowered enough for them to communicate.

_I found a scroll of Uru'Baen. Get down to the stables, and don't let her leave without you. _Schuyler commanded.

_Yes, father,_ Came the faint recognition as the walls went back up, and the person launched themselves into action.

When, she hurried into the stables, a few hours later, she looked completely different. She was no longer in the formal dress expected of a lady but in the grey and purple of a Surdan messenger, hair tied back with a ribbon to keep it out of her face. She shouldered a large pack, and had a dagger tucked in the sash around her waist.

A figure stepped out of the shadows of one of the stalls, and she jumped, hand moving toward the dagger. The figure laughed, and stepped into the flickering candle-light. It was a young man with serious blue eyes, and shoulder length black hair tied back with a leather strip, holding the reins of a brown horse named Bugle.

"Riley!" She gasped. Riley smiled broadly, and held the horse's reins out to her.

"I'm to keep you out of trouble. This morning was enough trouble for now." He said with a guilty smile. Faellie's heart sank, he was blaming himself for the morning's assassination attempt. She forced a smile knowing that she needed to distract him quickly, and snatched the reins from his hands. She swiftly mounted the horse, and looked down at him for a moment.

"Don't you think Torix and Azur could handle that?" She lifted one eyebrow and gazed haughtily down at him, an impish smile on her face. She nodded evenly at the black wolf, Torix, which appeared at her side when she said his name. A smaller brownish wolf padded into the stable, and settled itself down near Riley's feet. Riley stroked the brown wolf, Azur, on the top of the head in greeting.

"Perhaps but I think Orrin could use a couple of friends right now. Plus, you knowyou value my companionship." Riley teased, the guilty look disappearing from his face.

"Yes, until we get to the Varden, and you stop speaking again." Faellie laughed as Riley frowned thoughtfully.

"I have an image to uphold." Riley shrugged helplessly. "I'm a Greylay, the 'Black Mage', you know."

"I prefer my friend, Riley, over either of those." Faellie said. Riley rolled his eyes, a childish gesture, and spurred his horse faster. Faellie nudged Bugle, who kept up effortlessly. There was no sound but that of the horses' hooves, and the soft padding of the two wolves. "Sorry…"

"We all have a role to play. If I don't play mine flawlessly, you and Orrin end up in trouble." Riley stared straight ahead, and Faellie wished that he would look at her again. "I'm a mage and a Greylay, first and foremost, no matter how much I wish otherwise."

"That might be so, but you are still my _Riley_, my friend, and for both roles I am grateful." Faellie whispered softly. Riley glanced back at her, and she could see the softening in his eyes, the gratitude. No more words were needed.


	8. Chapter 6

**Ch. 6**

The next messenger to arrive carrying letters from Surda was exhausted, and stiff-looking from riding on a horse's saddle. The man informed Orrin that he had ridden straight from Surda, and switched horses at the way-stations set up to help ferry important news from Surda to the King by providing fresh horses for the messengers. He had made the journey in record time, and the dust covering him liberally along with the deep shadows under his eyes all held testament to the strain it had put him through.

With thanks, and firm orders that the man should get some rest, Orrin accepted the little packet of letters. The messenger bowed before departing mumbling under his breath about how much he longed to get a decent night's sleep. Orrin grimaced at the seals on the letters, another with the Greylay seal and one with the Langfeld seal. The Langfeld letter had to be from Faellie, there was no one else who had a blood claim to the name. The Greylay letter could be from Schuyler, or Riley though and he wondered what they had to say. Orrin broke the Langfeld seal, and unfolded the short letter.

_Langfeld._

_Riley and I will be joining you. See you soon._

_-Faellie_

Orrin blinked at the terse message, and wondered what could have happened in Surda to cause such a thing. Faellie was probably mad that he had been ignoring them. Guilt rose up, if he had answered the mirror he would probably know what was going on. Orrin opened the other letter hoping that it would fill out the gaps in his knowledge. He viewed the opening lines with great relief.

_Your Majesty,_

_Events in Surda have been continuing along in their normal fashion. Irwin has been managing the political side of things wonderfully, I freely admit that I had doubted his skill. He has never seemed as firm of will as he does in this time of crisis. Stress does seem to bring out the strength in some people._

_The finances look particularly bleak as you have no doubt heard from Faellie. That scheme of the Varden's while very clever does seem to be having a drastic affect on the sales of natural lace. Faellie is determined to speak to Nasuada about it but I am sure that she will come up with something if the talks do not materialize._

_From a security point of view, Galbatorix seems to be gaining in strength and his agents in cunning. I am sure you have heard about the loss of the outer-mage, he knows little important information but his disappearance is worrying. Guard yourself well; I will be more comfortable when my son is there to help protect you. For my part I am almost done tracking down all of the new spies in Aberon, Galbatorix does seem to have no end of volunteers. When I judge them as too much of a threat I will eliminate them._

_Unfortunately, the sheer numbers that Galbatorix can muster has made Aberon a less than satisfactory place for your cousin. There was another attempt on her life this morning although it was narrowly averted by Torix and my son. She has decided to join you, and I believe that is probably the best choice. There is more protection amongst the Varden than I could muster here, partially since there are so many more targets there, yes?_

_Faellie, Riley, Torix, and Azur should be traveling with the next supply train, although they may choose to hurry their journey and appear earlier. I suggest you warn your Varden colleagues about the impending presence of the wolves._

_I will keep you updated with any new information._

_Respectfully yours,_

_Schuyler Greylay_

Orrin grimaced at the news, the situation did not seem like it would be looking up for awhile. He was very relieved that his cousin had survived but it worried him that Galbatorix had found enough trained magicians to overwhelm his very competent mages. The magicians would be unlikely to cause too much trouble once Faellie had left Aberon though. Galbatorix had been attempting to assassinate the last pair of Langfeld's since before the war had started, and that he had tried again did not come as much of a surprise anymore. Orrin rubbed at his forehead noting the growing headache before standing and heading off to meet with the Varden leaders that he had called together. Orrin entered the tent, and noted with a sigh that the expressions on the faces of the others were weary. Nasuada spoke up first; always bold enough to state her purposes bluntly.

"This is highly unusual, Orrin. Why do you need to speak with us?" Nasuada said. Orrin could see that Eragon was curious but Orik and Arya had the same blank expressions that hid all of their emotions.

"First of all, Nasuada, I heard some good reports from my Generals about Roran Stronghammer. They would like to meet with him; they are impressed with his leadership and would like to discuss tactics." Orrin said.

"I'm sure that he would be pleased to accept." Nasuada said, glowing with pride from the compliment.

"Excellent, they will be in contact. Also, I am expecting the arrival of some of my allies from Surda." Orrin said. Nasuada instantly looked thoughtful. Orrin knew that she would be going through a list of allies that she had met while in Surda trying to figure out who he could be referring to. "Arriving with them will be a pair of wolves. My soldiers know of them but I figured that it would be best to inform you of their impending arrival."

"Wolves?" King Orik repeated, his expression one of shock. Eragon looked startled too but Nasuada had instantly figured out who he was referring to and he could see the resentment in her eyes.

"You keep wolves?" Arya's disgust shone clearly over her face, from the arched eyebrow to the down turned lips. "That's disrespectful to nature, and the animal!"

Orrin surveyed their disapproving faces calmly. He seemed like a powerful ruler in that moment, Eragon thought, detached and sure of himself. A smirk made its slow progress onto Orrin's face as he considered his answer. "You don't control a wolf, a wolf _tolerates_ you."

"If you bring them here you will be responsible for their actions, Orrin." Nasuada was frowning, unhappy.

"Oh, it's not really up for debate. I just thought that since we are allies I had best _inform _you of their presence." Orrin said, his words a veiled jab, mocking her as they called to mind her handling of the Fadawar and the Wandering tribes arrival. With that he stood, and after making his formal farewells swept from the Varden tent.

"It seems the Surdan king actually has more backbone then we gave him credit for." King Orik chuckled, while the others sat dismayed by this new revelation.


	9. Chapter 7

**Hazelcloud: I've been writing in Camp Nanowrimo this month and ran out of time to heavily edit the flashback that ought to be posted prior to this chapter regarding the wolves. So I've decided to simply post the next chapter, and I will just insert the flashback when I get around to it, until then please accept my apologies and enjoy the story.**

**Ch. 7**

Schuyler watched the Prime Minister fiddle with the stacks of paper on the desk. While the man was still not comfortable in his presence, Schuyler had been impressed with how he had been handling Surdan affairs recently. When Orrin had first appointed Irwin as Prime Minster, Schuyler had been sure that it had been a move to curry favor with the nobles, since Irwin was merely the stuttering hesitant son of a wealthy noble. It was a fact of life, no matter how much the people loved the ruler without the support of the nobles the throne was never safe, and Schuyler had viewed the appointment as a necessary sacrifice.

He should have known better, Orrin was much cleverer than that. Surely he had seen the hidden strength in the man. He had to have known. Irwin finally looked up, and Schuyler was surprised to see relief along with wariness in his eyes.

"Greylay, good afternoon." Irwin greeted him politely, and Schuyler bowed, wincing as his back gave a twinge of protest. He was getting old, and it seemed as though the world was not yet ready to give him even a moment of peace. Once again, fate had decided he should be the bearer of bad news.

"I have some reports regarding the mages at the war." Schuyler said, and Irwin waved him into the seat in front of the desk. Schuyler sat down gratefully, and Irwin sat down across from him, fingers laced tightly together a sign of worry.

"Alright, go on."

"One of the mages working at the frontlines has been kidnapped by Galbatorix. Tayr Braylon was his name." Schuyler said bluntly. Irwin rubbed a hand over his brow, and sighed. Then he grabbed a quill and scribbled down the name of the mage.

"I'll have his family notified. I don't suppose there's any hope of recovering him?" Irwin murmured, and he sighed again at Schuyler's solemn expression. "I thought not… How bad is his capture in terms of information?"

"Braylon was an outer circle mage. Any information he possessed was average, nothing very secretive or dangerous." Schuyler said.

Irwin nodded; it was common knowledge that the Surdan mages were organized in tiers. The lowest tiers were those mages who were deemed least trustworthy or mages who had newly joined the army. The higher up in the tiers a mage climbed, the more powerful the mage was and the more trustworthy. The very highest tier was reserved for members of the Greylay family who had been protecting Surda since its founding.

"Still it is very unfortunate. Surda can't spare any mages." Irwin said regretfully.

There were not many Surdans who possessed any talent with magic, and that made the magical security around Surda difficult to maintain. Irwin did not doubt that the Greylays had to be particularly resourceful in order to achieve it. Their reputation and power had been the only reasons that they had been allowed to retain their positions as mages after their disgrace. Irwin can't help but wonder what will happen after the last of the Greylays are gone: Riley's always busy with missions, and Schuyler's been old since Irwin first met him. Neither can have much time left, Irwin thinks sadly. Then again he probably does not either, Galbatorix takes a sick pleasure in killing off as many Surdan officials as he can. It keeps the government reeling, and Irwin can't help but wonder when he will pick up a poisoned goblet.

"What are you thinking?" Schuyler wants to know, and Irwin realizes that the mage has probably been talking to him for awhile now without receiving a response.

"I'm afraid of death." Irwin admits. "I was thinking about how much time I have left." Schuyler's steady gaze is nerving, the deep blue eyes that he shares with his son Riley seem to take in everything and reveal nothing.

"You'll have enough." Schuyler says and Irwin marvels at the confidence there. "Riley and I finished hunting down the last of the new Black Hand magicians before he left for the war front. I have the capital under control."

"Alright." Irwin agrees but he can still feel the fear. Schuyler must sense it for he smiles comfortingly, and Irwin is struck by how much Schuyler reminds him of his own grandfather, who is long dead.

"Leave it to me. The security is my part of the job. Yours is dealing with the nobles. Personally, I pity you. I never much liked nobles." Schuyler says, and Irwin chuckles.

"That's right but I don't envy the hours you put in." Irwin knows how late both mages stay up, and he's seen them come back covered in blood or bleeding themselves. No, he'd rather deal with nobles any day.

"Speaking of hours… I need to get back to my work. Good luck with your meeting today." Schuyler said, and bowed before heading out. Irwin groaned, he had forgotten about the meeting, and it was going to start very soon. He straightened the stacks of paper on the desk, noting which piles would need to be taken care of as soon as the meeting was over, and picked up the piece of paper with Tayr Braylon's name written on it. He folded the paper up and placed it in his pocket. Notifying the family would have to be done soon; and he dreaded the tears and sorrow that would accompany his message.


	10. Chapter 8

**Ch. 8**

The dungeons deep in the bowels of Uru'Baen are not a place of hope, they are a place of death, the floors slick from blood that seems to linger long after it has been wiped away, and the foul stench of death and rot lingers in every corner. The shrieks and screams of its inhabitants are paired in unnatural harmony with the clanging of swords, knives, and other tools. Death is a release that few prisoners dare hope for, magic can delay that release indefinitely.

To Murtagh the dungeons held memories that he strove to keep buried; it did him no good to dwell on the past contained in the past. It helped that this time he was entering the dungeons on his own two feet, and he could feel Thorn's comforting presence in his mind, strengthening him.

_Why does Galbatorix want you?_ Thorn asked. He knew that Murtagh would not go to the dungeons unless summoned there.

_One of his magicians has captured a Surdan mage. He wants me to be there when he breaks him, I think._ Murtagh answered. He hurried onward ignoring the flickering torches, and the silence. The silence was unnerving, usually the dungeons echoes with screams but they were silent today. It did not seem good for the Surdan.

_Cruel. You do not need to be there._ Thorn complained.

_Of course I do. If Galbatorix calls we must answer._ Murtagh answered.

_But Eragon said that we could change our true names._ Thorn pointed out. Murtagh could feel the hope that his dragon harbored because of those words. Both of them treasured that possibility, and guarded it jealously. Murtagh feared that if he looked at it too closely that it would break like a fragile glass trinket. Hope seemed too fragile a thing for him to possess.

_Not now, Thorn. We will talk about it later._ Murtagh assured his dragon, worried that Galbatorix would find out. Murtagh sensed Thorn's grudging acceptance.

_Fine, but you will not be able to avoid it this time._ Thorn said. _Good luck with Galbatorix._

_Thanks. I'll see you later. Maybe we can go out flying._ Murtagh said, and they withdrew from each other just as Murtagh reached his destination. He lifted one hand and knocked on the cell door. The door opened and he stepped in, suppressing a gag at the smell from the room.

Galbatorix stood confidently near the door, and Murtagh moved to stand near him, bowing in greeting. Galbatorix nodded but his gaze was fixed on the sole occupant of the cell. Standing on the other side of the room, wrists chained to the ceiling was the Surdan mage. Murtagh was surprised by the man's expression; it held nothing but weary despair. His heart sank, the mage was almost broken, there would not be much longer.

"Tell me your name." Galbatorix commanded the man. Tired green eyes peered out of a battered and bruised face, and the mage shook his head.

"No." When he spoke it was a pained whisper, and Murtagh winced knowing that the man would be forcing them out through a throat dry and worn from screaming. Blood stained the man's worn tunic attesting to the torture he had already been put through.

"But you have already told me your name, Tayr Braylon. Why not just tell it to me again?" Galbatorix taunted the man. The weary expression didn't change, and the man leaned farther against the wall, sinking down. Murtagh wondered at the amount of pressure that he would be putting his wrists through. Tayr didn't seem to care about anything anymore, he was long gone. Murtagh could remember the time when he had wished for death. Tayr's expression and body language radiated the knowledge that he was a man with nothing to live for.

"Kill me. I know there will be no other option." Tayr rasped before coughing roughly. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, and added to the stains on the tunic.

"But Tayr you haven't told me what I want to know yet." Galbatorix hissed his voice oddly soft as he addressed the mage. The tone of voice brought a flinch to the Surdan, Murtagh could imagine the threats and honeyed words that Galbatorix would have whispered in that same voice during the torture. Even now, the memories caused a shiver to run through him. Tayr Braylon said nothing, and his blank gaze rested on the ceiling of the cell as though there was nothing to be seen. "Tell me of the Varden plans."

"Surdan." Tayr rasped, and Murtagh wondered why he bothered with the correction.

"You know of what I speak. You spilled them to me during the torture. Why won't you tell me again now? I could release you from the pain." Galbatorix whispered. A single tear leaked out of one green eye, and Tayr let out a sob that hitched in his chest which brought on another blood splattered cough.

"I have already failed." Tayr whispered brokenly.

"That's right. There's no need to pretend to hide anything anymore." Galbatorix said. Another tear fell, and the green gaze focused on Murtagh and Galbatorix with a frightening intensity.

"Kill me. I've failed, you've taken everything. I have nothing more to give." The voice was fevered and desperate. "Just kill me. Let me go!"

"But Tayr that takes all of the fun out of everything." Galbatorix spoke in false reassurance. "Tell me what you know of the Greylays." The focus in the green gaze faded, and the Surdan's eyes returned to the ceiling.

"In charge." Tayr coughed. There was no point in avoiding the question, when its answer was common knowledge.

"Yes, and you served under which one?" Galbatorix said. The Surdan was silent, and Galbatorix whispered a spell. Tayr screamed, and Murtagh could see the blood pooling around his feet as one leg stopped supporting his weight.

"Riley!" Tayr screamed again, and elaborated, just wishing for the pain to stop. "Met him once."

Galbatorix reached in and smashed through the man's pain weakened shields, dragging Murtagh's consciousness along with him. The memory he was searching for was right at the surface, although Tayr's mind tried to block it.

_The young man standing before them carried that indefinable air of authority. His clothing was well made but not overtly wealthy, and his longer black hair framed a pale face. Peering out from the face though were a striking pair of dark blue eyes that radiated authority: piercing the nervous newly initiated Mage standing before him._

_"Welcome to service, Tayr Braylon." The man said solemnly. Tayr bowed deeply, alight inside with excitement and passion. It was a great honor to serve the country, especially in such a useful position as a Mage._

_"I am honored, Greylay." He said, addressing the other man. Riley Greylay was one of the highest ranked mages in Surda but he presided over the initiation ceremonies for all new mages, and to proceed forward you would have to be evaluated by either him or his father, Schuyler Greylay._

_"Excellent," Riley smiled at Tayr before becoming serious again. "I have something for you." Riley reached over and places a __brass ring__ in Tayr's palm._

_"Thank you, sir." Tayr said. The ring was one of the signs of the Surdan mages. Tayr could sense faintly a magical aura emanating from the brass ring._

_"You must swear to wear it always. Never be without it." Riley warned him. Tayr nodded and slipped the ring on his finger before swearing to wear it always.  
><em>  
>Galbatorix swore violently and Murtagh wondered what about the memory had him so upset. Galbatorix swept through the rest of the man's memories violently and Murtagh noted how Tayr never again came in contact with Riley Greylay: instead getting his orders from a variety of soldiers and letters carrying the Greylay seal. Murtagh could feel Galbatorix's anger increasing with every second. Then he pulled them free from Tayr's mind. Tayr moaned in pain and Murtagh could feel his self hatred. Tayr had betrayed everything that he cared for.<p>

"Dratted mages." Galbatorix swore angrily again before gesturing to the Surdan Mage again. "_Deyja!_"

"Sir!" Murtagh gasped in surprise as the Surdan collapses over, blood trickling out of his mouth as his heart beat faintly for the last time.

"Useless." Galbatorix snapped as he stalked over to the corpse and removed something before tossing it over Murtagh. Murtagh caught it easily and found himself staring at the brass ring from the memory.

"What about it?" Murtagh wondered. Galbatorix shook his head, and he pointed at the ring.

"A clever piece of magic from our Surdan counterpart. It contains a simple tracking spell and a glamour on it to keep people from noticing it until it is pointed out to them. Fueled, of course, by energy from the wearer," Galbatorix said. "Only the lower mages have them."

"But surely he knew some useful information." Murtagh said as he examined the brass ring an increased interest.

"I took what I needed from him. We have a description of the younger Greylay and some Generals. I will inform the soldiers and Black Hand and they ought to be able to bring me a more useful prisoner or eliminate them from the battlefield." Galbatorix said firmly.

"Yes sir." Murtagh agreed politely. Galbatorix glared at his red rider and gestured at the brass ring.

"You might want to take note. It is the simple tricks that can gain an upper hand." Galbatorix said angrily. Murtagh slipped the ring into his pocket and decided that he would look into the Greylays the next time he ended up in the library.

**Hazelcloud: Hopefully this chapter helped explain the Surdan Mage organization. Let me know what you think! **


	11. Chapter 9

**Ch. 9**

General Roran Stronghammer had been surprised when Nasuada had informed him that King Orrin had requested he meet with some of the Surdan Generals; apparently, she had said proudly, they were impressed with his leadership. He wasn't sure what they would want to discuss, he did not have many solid tactics. He reacted in the best way that he could for the situation, and every situation was unique. Plus, he acted to protect his soldiers: it was one of the reasons that he had gained their respect. They knew that he would not ask anything of them that he would not be willing to do himself.

He was waiting for the Surdan Generals at the edge of a training field which was currently empty. The ground was dry and rough from the hoof-beats of cavalry units. There was the sound of laughter, and he turned to see who was coming. He easily indentified General Felix, who was unmistakable due to his orange hair but he did not recognize either of the other two. They appeared to be the reason for the laughter that was bubbling out from Felix was the pair gestured wildly as they tried to explain something. Felix was still smiling broadly as the trio approached Roran.

"General Stronghammer it's nice to see you again." Felix greeted him, and Roran replied:

"And you, General Felix."

"These are my colleagues: General Lael, and Commander Lockwood." Felix introduced the others, gesturing first to a brown haired man whose skin was tan from time spent in the sun and next to the blond man. Roran shook hands with each: Lael's hand was rough with calluses that spoke of a rural life before he joined the army, and Roran wondered how the man had managed to move so far through the army. It was obvious to him that both General Felix and Commander Lockwood had come from wealthy families.

"It's an honor to meet you." Commander Lockwood said. Lael smiled at Roran, a huge grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"It's nice to meet another farmer who has made their mark in the army." Lael said. Roran nodded in agreement.

"Of course, the army is based on talent not social class after all, Lael." Lockwood said his tone clearly teasing as though this was a common argument between the two.

"If that's true, however did you make it to commander?" Lael wondered aloud. Lockwood shook his head, and directed a scathing glare at the general. Felix fixed the pair of them with a glare and spoke quickly to cut them off.

"I'm really grateful that you agreed to meet with us." Felix said before gesturing at Lael and Lockwood. "Try to ignore them." That caused some indignant snorts from the other two officers, who both fixed Felix with twin glares of annoyance.

"Nasuada had mentioned that some of the Surdan generals had wanted to meet with me. I didn't expect it to be you." Roran said genuinely surprised. He wondered that there were only two generals here, and a commander. He glanced around at the empty practice field. Surely there should have been other officials there drilling soldiers. Lockwood caught the look, and grinned at him.

"It's just going to be us. Most of the generals are no longer under Orrin's control." Lockwood explained. "The chain of command had to be altered when we openly joined the Varden. To have the army split between two leaders would be inefficient. Orrin is directly in charge of the cavalry instead of the whole army."

"There _should_ be more but the last battles have resulted in a rash of deaths among us." Lael grimaced, and nodded towards Lockwood. "I suspect Galbatorix had been targeting military officials. Lockwood had a particularly stubborn soldier target him even though he was not the easiest target. I don't suppose you've noticed anything?"

"I'll admit that I haven't but I never really thought about it. I could ask around though." Roran said the idea struck him as very prudent of Galbatorix. If the king continually targeted the heads of the armies it would create chaos.

"If you wouldn't mind." Lael said smiling gratefully. Lockwood was eyeing Roran with an increased sort of interest that made him nervous. Roran stared back at him and shifted uncomfortably. Lael noticed his discomfort and nudged Lockwood sharply in the ribs with an elbow. Lockwood flushed in embarrassment as he realized that he had been staring.

"My apologies." The Surdan muttered, rubbing his ribs. "I was just wondering if it was true that you only fought with a hammer…"

"A hammer?" Lael echoed in disbelief as he too looked at the hammer hanging comfortably at Roran's side.

"Well, it's the reason they call me Stronghammer." Roran chuckled, now understanding the interest that Lockwood had taken in his appearance. He knew that rumors had been spreading about his talent with the hammer. Felix's eyes widened in disbelief, and Roran was taken aback by the incredulity in their gazes.

"I heard you defeated over a hundred soldiers with your hammer in one battle." Lockwood said.

"It was nearer to two hundred." Roran muttered feeling a little embarrassed by their expressions. "But I had many good men and a magician with me at the battle."

"I told you!" Lockwood crowed in triumph as he clapped a hand onto Roran's shoulder. "This is the man to talk to, talented but modest, and what's even better his men love him." Felix was now smiling, and there was grudging agreement on Lael's face.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're right." Lael huffed.

"What is going on?" Roran growled, feeling as though he had been left out of the loop.

"I've been placed in charge of a cavalry unit and I was hoping that we could work together. As perhaps an experiment? I know that you are in charge of a unit of both urgals and men. I thought maybe we could work on some tactics that would allow the integration of cavalry." Lockwood said, clearly excited.

"I'd have to see some of your maneuvers. I need to know what your cavalry are capable of. It does sound intriguing." Roran agreed. Such an integrated unit could prove good both during battles but also to cement the solidarity of the Varden, Surda, and the urgals.

"Why don't you round up some of your soldiers, and fetch yourself a horse?" Lael suggested. "As long as you're not too busy, Stronghammer, we could get a demonstration now."

"I have some time still." Roran said, and Lockwood excused himself. Roran watched him hurry off and just when the man had disappeared from sight, Lael spoke.

"What do you do if your attacker has a longsword?"

"Avoid being killed." Roran said simply. Felix laughed at the surprise on Lael's face.

"Good strategy, simple and easy to remember." Felix said.

"And likely to get yourself killed." Lael grumbled under his breath as he frowned. The three slipped into companionable silence as they waited for Lockwood to reappear.

He did a short time later, leading a charcoal horse, and followed closely by another young soldier. The other soldier seemed pleasant enough, he was alert and lean with an easy friendly manner. He had a quiver slung over one shoulder, and a hand clutched around the bridle of brown horse.

"Is that all you managed to find Lockwood?" Lael teased the blond, who grimaced and walked quickly over to them.

"It's a day of rest, Lael, and it's early." Lockwood snapped. Roran had agreed to meet with the Surdans early in the morning to avoid conflicts with any of their or his respective duties.

"I was the only one ready to forgo eating this morning." The young soldier said with a smile. "Good morning, General Felix, General Lael, General Stronghammer." He greeted them.

"Morning Tad." Lael said. "It doesn't surprise me that you're up. You're much too pleasant in the morning."

"Of course, sir." Tad said with another easy grin. "I heard you were looking for a cavalry demonstration."

"Hop to it then, Tad." Lael grumbled at the man's cheerful demeanor. Tad chuckled, and slung the quiver over his shoulder.

Tad then turned and mounted the brown horse in one swift movement. Then with practiced ease he pulled an arrow from the quiver and notched the arrow. The brown horse moved into a trot and then a gallop with a tap of the soldier's heels. Tad drew his arm and released the arrow. _Clank._ He notched another arrow, and repeated the movement as the horse continued its charge towards the target.

Roran, and the others watched the maneuver in silence. He was impressed with the accuracy of the man, as he was riding on a horse and still hitting the target with a good deal of accuracy. One arrow skidded along the ground, and another hit the target. Then the horse was being turned towards them, and in seconds Tad was dismounting to stand before them.

"Sorry, sir." Tad apologized to Lockwood who was frowning at the spread of arrows on the target.

"You need to keep your aim straighter." Lockwood admonished the soldier, picking up his own bow, and mounting the charcoal horse. He turned the horse, and it moved easily into a gallop. _Clank. _One arrow hit the target, and Lockwood had already strung another arrow. _Clank. _Lockwood managed to aim and fire the arrows with quick precision, and an ease that looked unnatural. _Clank._

"General Lockwood has much better aim, sir, I think he got it from his father. Seems to travel in the bloodlines." Tad addressed Roran. "His father did the same thing when he was in the army."

"Watch your gossip, Tad." Lael warned quietly. Tad shrugged, unconcerned by the soft warning.

"I didn't mean any harm. It's a simple truth, sir." Tad said equally quiet, now that Lockwood had finished with the exercise and was heading back towards them. Lael was nodding, he knew that of course but war meant an increase in paranoia. Felix added nothing to the conversation, gesturing instead to Lockwood and the topic was dropped in mutual understanding.

"What do you think?" Lockwood asked as soon as he had reached the group. Roran was silent, deep in thought, before responding.

"Impressive," Roran said, and Lockwood flushed in embarrassment. "I'll see what I can do. It seems like once the archers get too close to the enemy, they are going to need protection. Maybe urgals for that and foot soldiers would be good for finishing off the wounded."

"I agree, especially if we face any of the painless ones." Lockwood said.

"Excellent. Then I look forward to working with you but I'm afraid I have duties to attend to now." Roran said as he shook hands with Lockwood. Lael and Felix added farewells, and Tad smiled as he went back to fetch the arrows. Roran turned and hurried off. He could feel them staring after him as he left, mind whirring with ideas and what he had just witnessed. He resisted the urge to look back, content with keeping his pride.


	12. Chapter 10

**Ch. 10**

**Just the Beginning- A Varden War Meeting**

It was, Eragon thought, one of the first times he had been taken into the center of the Surdan section of the camp. In truth he hadn't realized how separate the Surdans actually were. The majority of their troops' tents seemed to be clustered just on the opposite side of the larger tent that King Orrin occupied. He wasn't sure why they weren't being led into the main tent either. Nasuada had just called upon him and Saphira and declared that some new Surdan nobles had arrived. Eragon grimaced wondering how stuffy and uptight the Surdans might be. King Orik and Arya were also accompanying them, Eragon noted curiously.

They made their way through the close groups of tents quickly, guided by a soldier dressed in armor marked by the purple of the Surdan army. He stopped outside a small tent that looked to Eragon no different from any of the other tents. He put his fingers to his lips, and let out a low whistle that changed in tone towards the end.

"The Varden embassy, milord." The soldier announced as he stood outside the tent's entrance.

"Allow them entrance." Orrin's voice came filtering through the fabric of the tent, and the soldier drew the tent flap back, gesturing them inside. When everyone had moved inside, the soldier fastened the flap closed, and moved off back through the camp.

Eragon blinked in the dim tent that was lit only by candles. King Orrin was seated a broad smile on his face as he regarded them. Standing just behind him as a young woman, near Eragon's own age he guessed, dressed in a rich purple gown. Her eyes were _brown_ and her hair a honey brown color which looked extremely similar to Orrin's. Lounging nearby was a young man who surveyed them warily with dark blue eyes. Eragon felt Nasuada stiffen beside him as she caught sight of the Surdan nobles. He looked over them again, and couldn't figure out why she was upset.

"I suppose I should start with the introductions." Orrin said still smiling. The young woman shifted slightly and nodded. "This is Lady Faellie Langfeld, and that is Mage Riley Greylay."

"Langfeld?" King Orik grumbled staring at Orrin as though he had sprouted another head. Eragon realized why, Langfeld was Orrin's name too. Could she be his wife? Eragon wondered. Neither Orrin nor Faellie answered Orik's mutter for Orrin had hurried on with the introductions.

"Arya Drottingu of the elves, King Orik of the dwarves, Lady Nasuada of the Varden, and Eragon Shur'tugal or should I say Shadeslayer?" Orrin chuckled. Faellie and Riley both smiled politely and Eragon could feel them eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Riley Greylay bowed slightly, the picture of a noble, all false smiles and polite words.

"Yes, I'm sure." Nasuada waved his words away not noticing how his eyes hardened as she did so. "Really, Orrin, was it such a good idea to bring her along? I know you are family but this is a serious operation." All three Surdans were no longer smiling; instead they were looking at Nasuada with irritation. Eragon shifted uncomfortably, he had been wondering the same thing but Nasuada had been too blunt. She was alienating the Surdans.

"You may not think me a capable ruler but you have no business meddling in purely Surdan affairs." Orrin spluttered coldly. Faellie moved closer to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder as if to restrain him from saying more.

"I may be his cousin as you well know Nasuada but at the moment I am acting as the financier. It's difficult to regulate war spending from the background." Faellie spoke evenly but her eyes flashed at Nasuada in challenge.

"Really?" Nasuada scoffed unbelieving.

"This meeting will have to be continued later." Riley intervened suddenly with a glance at Orrin and Faellie to silence them. "Lady Nasuada, we will need to speak to you regarding finances but I will also need to meet your spell casters."

"Tomorrow then." Nasuada decided and she swept out of the tent followed closely by Eragon, Arya, and Orik.

The three Surdans heaved sighs of relief. Riley moved closer to the table in front of Orrin, and Faellie moved to stand next to Orrin's chair. Standing that way, each of them could see the faces of the others, and the clear surface of the table was visible to all. Riley busied himself by checking the spells he had placed around the tent to prevent spies. Upon finding them intact, he motioned that they could speak again.

"Well, that went better than I expected." Orrin sighed again, the dark rings under his eyes easily visible to his closest friends.

"Indeed, cousin. She was quite incensed at seeing me again." Faellie agreed.

"To business then?" Riley inquired softly, hoping to change the direction of the conversation. When the cousins nodded he pulled a sealed roll of parchment from his sleeve, and worked to open it.

"You're here much quicker than I expected. I thought you were coming with the next supply train." Orrin was watching Riley closely as he began a spell to unseal the capsule.

"The supply train was taking too long. The longer we were out the more danger we were in. Torix and Azur accompanied us." Faellie offered by way of explanation.

"The Varden's only moderately safer." Orrin said. Riley shook his head disagreeing, and Faellie voiced his unspoken thoughts.

"It'll be easier to protect the two of us when we are in the same place. The number of assassination attempts had increased again, Galbatorix must be worried."

"He should be." Orrin said. Riley had gotten the capsule unsealed and has spread the parchment out over the desk. "Well, what have we got here?"

"We finally got our hands on a map of Uru'Baen." Riley explained. Orrin pored over the map, eyes taking in every detail. Riley and Faellie watched him anxiously, hoping it would prove to be satisfactory.

"Well, well, well," Orrin rubbed his hands together in glee, and Riley and Faellie smiled in relief. "That certainly brings us closer to completing our plan."

"We will have to tread carefully. Nasuada's clearly anxious and we can't risk alienating the Varden." Riley warned them. Faellie frowned, and huffed in annoyance as Orrin nodded looking thoughtful.

"She clearly has no qualms about insulting us." Faellie complained.

"Obviously," Riley's chuckles were silenced by Orrin's sharp glare. "But perhaps she was just acting rashly."

"We'll have to share the map with them." Orrin decided ignoring the fierce looks leveled at him by his friends. "We can't risk them discovering that we withheld crucial information from them. Plus, this will provide a perfect opportunity for you to integrate yourselves slowly. I expect that you intend to be more hands on in your advice from now on."

"That's right." Faellie slammed one fist on the tabletop. "You will actually have to face us when you ignore our advice now." She was grinning triumphantly, and Orrin grimaced.

"Indeed, from the way this meeting went it seems that you haven't been a very forceful figure at any of the war meetings." Riley added.

"Weak indeed." Faellie sniffed. Orrin spread his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Anything else you would like to pick apart? How about my handling of the war itself?" Orrin huffed.

"Well…" Riley began, and he and Faellie laughed at the exasperated look on Orrin's face. "You've done well. Clearly, _we've_ done _you_ a disservice by not being more accessible advisors."

"You were busy." Orrin waved a hand dismissively.

"It really is good to see you again." Faellie smiled, and leaned down to hug her cousin tightly. "Goodnight Orrin. We shall have to speak more tomorrow after Riley and I visit the Varden." Orrin nodded, and watched silently as they left the tent to head to their own tents.

**Hazelcloud: This hasn't been my favorite chapter but I've edited it as best I can. Next chapter the action should pick up: a magician's duel!**


	13. Chapter 11

**Ch. 11**

Nasuada, Triana, and Eragon were waiting in the Varden tent for the meetings requested by the recently arrived Surdan nobles. Eragon was curious to meet the Surdan nobles again. He was surprised to find that one of them was a mage; he had not been aware of any magic users in Surda, it did not seem like many Surdans could use magic. He could not figure out why one of them would not be with the army, helping with the war effort, until just now. The man had seemed too confident to be a new magic user. Faellie Langfeld intrigued him because he had not thought that Orrin had any family. The man had seemed so eccentric that Eragon had not even considered that he would have any close family members. Eragon was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to Surda than any of the Varden had originally thought.

"We will be meeting with Lady Faellie Langfeld, and Riley Greylay. Both of them are very close to King Orrin so we must be careful." Nasuada warned Triana and Eragon. Eragon nodded, the advice was obvious but he noted that Triana looked thoughtful at the mention of the mage. Nasuada noticed the look too but before she could ask Triana about it there was a rustle and a soldier's voice announcing the arrival of the Surdans. Faellie Langfeld and Riley Greylay stepped into tent, smiling pleasantly. She performed the traditional greeting with the ease of nobility.

"Lady Nasuada, Shadeslayer, Lady Triana." Faellie then introduced them to her companion. Riley Greylay bowed slightly in response, his expression serious. Eragon got the feeling that he was carefully memorizing their titles and faces.

"I was surprised to hear that you had stayed behind in Surda." Nasuada said, and Triana looked at the mage in surprise. If he was one of the best Surdan mages, shouldn't he have been at the forefront of the battle? Eragon noticed the tightening of Faellie's expression. A nerve had been touched; the topic Nasuada had broached seemed to be a touchy one for the Surdans.

"I was busy cleaning up after your spell casters." Riley Greylay said mildly, neither his tone nor his expression giving away what he felt. Eragon saw Triana bristle, and finger Lorga, the metal snake bracelet that was her familiar. "I was surprised to find that they had assassinated so many without consulting me, it is _my_ country to protect." Triana's eyes had narrowed in anger at the jibe; Eragon knew well that she was easy to anger when her power came into question.

"You did not seem to be protecting your country very well. Aberon was a nest of Black Hand spies." Triana snapped. Riley's expression did not change but Faellie looked offended.

"I had everything under control." Riley said his voice still polite.

"Clearly not." Triana sniffed. "You forfeited control when a Black Hand magician attacked Nasuada."

"If Du Vangr Gata had introduced themselves to the mages of the host country I would not have had to be scrambling to track which minds were friends and which were foes. The Varden is lucky that none of their spell casters died." Riley said irritated by Triana's pride. It seemed that Triana had finally insulted the mage enough to anger him.

"We did you a favor, and took care of them for you. You ought to be thanking Du Vangr Gata." Triana smirked in triumph, and the other mage's eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes. Thank you for killing off the Black Hand that I had already located, and was feeding misinformation." The sarcasm was biting. "Do you have any idea how much time I had to spend in Surda tracking down the few you missed, and then trying to locate the new ones Galbatorix sent?" Riley looked angry now, the blank noble façade dropping away.

"Riley." Faellie warned her voice low. Riley glanced over at her and took a deep breath. Triana was having none of it.

"Prove it." Triana challenged her eyes flashing in anger at the slight. "I challenge you to a duel." Nasuada gasped, and Faellie looked horrified. Eragon himself was worried too; a magician's duel was a serious undertaking. He was surprised that Triana felt that she had been pushed so far.

"I don't think…" Faellie began only to trail off when Riley glanced at her, and shook his head. Nasuada looked as though she were about to object to the duel also but Riley spoke first.

"I accept. Since you are the challenger, it is my duty to set the terms of the duel." Riley said, and Triana nodded solemnly in agreement though her expression still spoke of the anger within.

"Agreed." Triana said softly. Riley Greylay took a few steps into the room and turned to face her, expression thoughtful but still angry.

"The duel shall take place right here, and right now." Riley decided. Faellie took a few steps back, so that she was standing next to the wall out of the way of the participants. Nasuada had also moved back, so Eragon did likewise. He noticed that both women still looked horrified and worried.

"Now?" Triana asked, sounding as though she did not believe that Riley was ready. Riley nodded stiffly at her a harsh grin on his face.

"Now. The rules are as follows. There shall be no mind control, or mind reading. As leader of Du Vangr Gata, surely you have sensitive Varden information, and I have Surdan information. It would be insensitive to compromise the alliance in order to duel." Riley said, and Triana nodded. Eragon thought that she seemed faintly worried. "Second, there shall be no harming the room or the spectators. That is all." Riley concluded. Eragon wondered how many duels the man had been in, he seemed confident.

"I agree with your terms." Triana said. The pair faced off across the room, and they seemed to radiate power.

"Begin." Both magicians said at the same time, and Triana began to whisper to the snake bracelet. The golden snake bracelet shifted, and moved. It sprang to life, and hissed something sinister at Riley. The Surdan mage eyed it warily, still not moving or speaking yet.

"Lorga." Triana hissed, and some magic seemed to emanate from the snake. Riley Greylay's fingers lifted to his throat before snapping down, and beginning to trace complex patterns in the air. Eragon noticed that Triana watched Riley warily; unnerved by the fact that he was starting a spell with motions and not with words.

"He's using magic without the ancient language." Eragon spoke softly in awe. Nasuada nodded, and Faellie continued to stare in horror at Riley. Eragon noticed that her fingers had curled into a fist, the knuckles white. He looked over at the Surdan mage, and saw that Riley could no longer breathe.

Riley looked as though he was beginning to suffocate, his lips open as he tried to get air. His fingers still flicked through the air with increasing intensity. His eyes were open, but he looked so focused. Eragon could tell that the mage was completely invested in the duel. Triana was still standing there looking satisfied; Eragon wondered if she would just stand there and wait until the Surdan suffocated. Eragon glanced over at Faellie wondering how she was holding up. To his surprise, he noticed that she was looking down to a shape at her side. It was a black wolf with a white ruff on its chest. Its eyes shone with intelligence, and it was staring at the duel with what Eragon could swear was understanding.

"Go get Felix. Hurry Torix." Faellie urged the wolf, her voice tight with worry. The wolf paused for a second, then whirled about and loped from the tent. Her eyes then focused on the duel again, and Eragon looked back also. The Surdan mage was looking paler but his hands still flickered through patterns. Eragon wondered what spell he was casting. It seemed to be too complicated to be of any use.

Riley's hands flashed once more, and something sparked. There was a flash of light and Triana jumped back as though stung, Lorga the snake hissing angrily. Riley gasped in desperation, and Eragon saw the man's chest finally fill with air. He had found the counter-spell! Riley took another shallow breath, and his hands flashed again immediately, completing a spell in seconds. Magic arched out towards Triana, knocking her off of her feet. Triana spoke desperately hurrying through another spell. Riley was already moving his hands again; the next spell bound Triana in place, so that she could not speak. Triana's eyes widened in horror, she seemed to know that she was beaten. Eragon realized that she did not know how to perform magic without her voice. Riley smiled harshly, and magic flared at his fingers.

"I win. Now what shall we do with you?" Riley's voice was deadly soft. His gaze seemed unfocused, Eragon was sure that he was thinking of another time. Faellie apparently thought so too.

"Riley?" She said softly, taking a step forward. The mage did not even glance towards her, instead muttering in a strained voice.

"Only magic users can intervene in a duel." Faellie and Nasuada turned desperately towards Eragon, who shrugged helplessly. He did not understand the fine points of dueling and had no idea what Riley was referring to. There was the sound of pounding footsteps, and a frazzled looking young man burst in. His orange hair was windswept, and he looked exhausted. He snapped his fingers, releasing a shimmer of sparks.

" _Brisingr." _He snapped. Riley's gaze snapped to meet the young man's. "Life, I choose life."

"Felix." Riley whispered in greeting, dropping the magic binding Triana. He stepped away from her, and she collapsed to the ground. The other young man, Felix, glared angrily at Riley.

"Yes, Felix." Felix snapped. "Stand over there. I need to help the lady first." He moved over to Triana, and helped her gently into a sitting position. Her eyes were unfocused, and the snake curled around her wrist, leapt into life. Felix let go of her quickly, eyeing the snake with distaste. Riley let out a sudden gasp, and choked again. Felix turned irritated, and glared at him. "Keep breathing, Riley. I know your throat hurts."

_Spell._ Riley mouthed the word at him, and made a desperate gesture towards Triana, and Felix whipped around to face her.

"Drop the spell. The duel is over." Felix said gently. Triana blinked but her eyes still seemed unfocused. "Drop the spell!" Felix ordered. Riley gagged again, and Felix's hand moved up. _Crack._ His hand made contact with Triana's face, and she shrieked. Riley heaved in another rattling breath.

"Felix!" Nasuada cried out horrified.

"Spell caster! Look at me, the duel is over." Felix said slowly. Triana nodded, and whimpered at the pain. Felix grimaced, and patted her gently on the back. "I am sorry. You were out of it."

"Yes." Triana understood for her eyes held no anger towards him.

"Are you alright?" Felix asked. Triana nodded slowly.

"I think so." Triana said hesitantly. Felix stood, and offered her a hand. Triana accepted, and climbed shakily to her feet. Felix flashed another comforting smile.

"You must have done well. Most of Riley's opponents are in a lot worse shape." Felix said. "Dead." He muttered under his breath. Triana smiled slightly but was too exhausted to answer. Triana let go of his hand, and Felix turned to move over to Riley.

"Throat." Riley muttered. "The spell was through her ancestors."

"An interesting choice for the point of origin." Felix commented, peering into Riley's throat, and wincing. Eragon remembered how Brom had taught him that magicians could start with any element or idea and perform a spell. His example had involved how a magician could create a gem but that he might have performed the spell using water because he saw the link from water and the crystal. It was one of the reasons that Brom had told him to avoid magician's duels. Only quick thinkers and the most powerful could compete.

"Ah yes." Riley said. Felix shook his head, and took a step back.

"Can you heal it yourself? I have no more magic in me." Felix said. Riley shook his head, looking exhausted. Felix grimaced, and glanced about the room. "Then you will just have to suffer through it."

"I can heal it for him." Eragon offered. He was impressed but he also did not want to let the man suffer any more. He was still intrigued by the Surdan nobles.

"Really?" Felix asked. "If you would that would be helpful." Eragon muttered the spell, and his magic glowed. The healing took very little energy, so Eragon did not feel drained afterward.

"Thank you." Riley said gratefully, one hand rubbing at his throat. "Satisfied, Triana?" He asked, turning to look at the sorceress. She had cooled down, and nodded meekly. She knew that she had been beaten.

"Yes. You certainly are powerful Greylay." Triana's eyes flashed with curiosity. "Might I ask what the point of origin was for your spell?" The expressions of all three Surdan nobles shut down, turning blank. Some taboo topic had just been brought up, but Eragon could not figure out why. The question had seemed innocent enough?

"You could ask but I will not answer." Riley answered, pasting on a false smile. He excused himself. "I must go, I am rather tired. May I have the pleasure of calling on you tomorrow to discuss Du Vangr Gata?"

"Of course, tomorrow then." Triana gasped, looking equally drained. Riley bowed slightly before making his escape, leaving the tent. Felix frowned, and stepped forward to catch Triana by the arm as she began to lose her balance.

"You need to see a healer. I would suggest resting and finding something to eat." Felix said. Triana made no move to argue, instead leaning heavily on Felix's arm. "I'll help you there."

As he carefully escorted Triana out of the tent, his gaze met Faellie's and he gave her an inscrutable look. Faellie gently stroked the black fur on the wolf's head, and turned to face Nasuada, expression serious.

"Now on the subject of your lace making scheme…" Faellie began seriously.

"I have an army to take care of." Nasuada reminded Faellie. "The lace has been extremely profitable; there can be no compromise there."

"I have a country to think of too." Faellie smiled slyly. "Well, it's on. Good luck to you. Might I suggest that you should look into diversifying your offerings?" Nasuada chuckled, and Faellie curtseyed before turning to leave. Eragon looked at Nasuada in confusion.

"It's a challenge." She said. Faellie chuckled too and paused at the exit, hesitating caught between two conflicting desires. Finally, she turned back to Nasuada, her expression uncertain.

"Nasuada, I know that when we last parted we did not part on the best of terms." Faellie said hesitantly. Nasuada nodded, her face resigned as she remembered the past. "But I wanted to congratulate you on becoming the leader of the Varden. I'm sure you're doing wonderfully."

"Thank you." Nasuada accepted the compliment with a smile. "I think I understand. I assure you that I will put it out of mind."

"I'm glad. I will endeavor to do the same." Faellie said sincerely. Eragon blinked in confusion. He knew that he was missing something; something personal between the two women. He waited until Faellie turned and left before questioning Nasuada. She smiled sadly at him, and spoke softly.

"It was a very long time ago. She was grieving after the loss of her parents, and fiercely protective of what little family she had left. I was young and much too amused by Orrin's eccentricities. After that there were heated words that I think we both regret now. I respect her for staying strong after all that she has suffered through, and I think that she respects how I have worked to become the leader I am now. We've both grown." Nasuada said softly, seemingly more to herself than Eragon.

"Ahh…" Eragon understood though he had not realized that they had known each other for so long.

"What do you think of visiting the Surdans? I'm curious about the reaction to Faellie and Riley's returns." Nasuada asked, changing the topic to something less personal.

"I think it will be interesting." Eragon said sincerely.

"To say the least." Nasuada said with a chuckle.


	14. Interlude 3: Nasuada & Faellie

**Interlude 3: Nasuada Ajihadsdaughter and Faellie Langfeld**

Faellie Langfeld surveyed the other young woman in the room, and reflected that Nasuada Aijhadsdaughter seemed to be very happy. She wondered whether Nasuada had known her mother for long before she passed away. Her uncle King Larkin had left the two of them alone hoping that they would bond and form a friendship but Faellie was still grieving. Her parents had perished along with most of the Langfeld family at a reunion only a short time ago. Uncle Larkin had probably been hoping that the loss of a parent would bring the two of them closer together. Faellie very much doubted it. Even so, she realized, she would have to make an effort for Nasuada was beginning to fidget awkwardly waiting for her to say something.

"Hello, Nasuada." Faellie said. Nasuada smiled back at her, and Faellie managed to pull together enough of a smile to not feel impolite.

"Hello Faellie. It's nice to meet you. I had not realized that King Larkin had a daughter." Nasuada said. Faellie could feel her eyes widen in surprise, wondering how Larkin had described her to Nasuada. He had pretty much adopted her, since her father was his brother and she had no other family.

"Actually I'm his niece, and Orrin's cousin." Faellie corrected gently. Nasuada blushed in embarrassment and stuttered out an apology.

"I'm sorry. I just assumed that since you were a Langfeld that you were his daughter." Nasuada said.

"It's alright, it was an honest mistake. My parents both passed away recently, so I am living in Aberon." Faellie explained, one hand reaching instinctively to brush against the scar on her arm. Nasuada noticed the movement and her eyes widened at the sight of the scars at surrounded her wrist. There were a handful of short jagged scars, wrapping around her left arm from the teeth of a wolf. One of the reasons she was still alive.

"Aberon's very nice. I was surprised to meet Riley Greylay." Nasuada said as they moved to sit at the little tea table, set up with dainty china cups and a silver teapot. Faellie felt her stomach flip at the sight of the tea. She could never serve tea again, not after her parents death.

"Ah yes. I heard about your first meeting. He's rather upset actually. Something about failing in his duty." Faellie said referring to how Nasuada had run into a Black Hand magician before he had been taken care of by Riley. Faellie made no move to pour the tea, studiously avoiding looking at it and trying to ignore the tears fighting to appear.

"It was not his fault. Tea?" Nasuada offered as she tactfully ignored Faellie's lapse as hostess and began to prepare the tea. Faellie felt her stomach flip again, and shook her head. "Alright. I must say I had not realized that Orrin was so…unusual."

"My cousin is rather unique." Faellie said stiffly.

"Oh, I meant no offense!" Nasuada said quickly, and Faellie tried to let go of the anger. She was unable to. "He showed me some of his experiments, and well they seem rather daft."

"Really now!" Faellie exclaimed. "He's done some very important work." Nasuada looked skeptical.

"If you say so." She said consolingly. Faellie fumed in silence the rest of the tea, participating in only simple small talk. Nasuada seemed offended by her reticence, and Faellie wondered what in Alagaesia her uncle had been thinking when he threw the two of them together.

She managed to hold herself together until Orrin came to visit her that night. He sat across from her and spoke excitedly about the young woman he had met. Nasuada was so smart, and polite. She had seemed genuinely interested in his experiments, Orrin said glowing with happiness. Beautiful, he said, and Faellie broke into tears. She sobbed inconsolably as Orrin tried to comfort her, wondering why his mentioning his intentions to court Nasuada would trigger such a response.

It wasn't until the second encounter that Nasuada and Faellie would exchange heated words but when they did, it ruined any chance of them bonding for many _many_ years.


	15. Chapter 12

**Ch. 12**

After Nasuada suggested that he look into the Surdan reactions to Riley Greylay and Faellie Langfeld's return, Eragon found that he had a surprisingly hard time locating any Surdans. It seemed that they had all thrown themselves into their work. He heard from Roran that Commander Lockwood had chuckled on hearing of their return and remarking that it had only been a matter of time until they had found a way back to the front. Generals Felix and Lael had seemed pleased but had not said anything, merely nodding in response.

Eragon was intrigued by the mage, the way the man had funneled the magic through gestures instead of words had struck him as creative and deucedly handy. Finally it had occurred to him to ask Angela about Riley Greylay, she always had an unexpected amount of information on anything and everything.

It was equally unexpected that the very object of his curiosity should be visiting Angela when he arrived at her tent. The young looking Surdan mage was standing just inside the door of the tent, and gingerly holding a cup of tea while watching Angela rummage around the tent as she searched for something.

"I'm beginning to think you have lost it." Riley Greylay said mildly, nodding politely to Eragon as he entered. Angela ignored Eragon as she continued to search for the object, pausing only to glare at the mage.

"I never lose anything!" She declared hotly.

"What are you looking for?" Eragon asked curiously.

"A glass beaker." Angela answered.

"But… why?" Eragon wondered aloud.

"Orrin lent it to her, and he needs it for another experiment so I was sent to retrieve it." Riley explained as he set the teacup gently down on the counter next to a pile of purplish leaves. He did a double take, and stared at the leaves in shock.

"Why ever do you have _that_ lying around? Are you trying to kill someone?" Riley said, and Eragon stared at the leaves, recognizing them as a particularly potent poison.

"I need it." Angela replied lightly, unconcerned that she left poisonous plants just lying around.

"I don't even want to know why." Riley groaned.

"You're quite dull if you don't know why. It's to create a poison." Angela sent a look towards the Surdan mage that suggested that she now thought him rather stupid. Riley crossed his arms, and sighed.

"Of course, I was just hoping that you wouldn't be planning on poisoning anyone. It would be a pain if I had to monitor you as well." Riley said.

"You don't have me monitored?" Angela looked surprised. One eyebrow lifted on Riley's face, and his look clearly expressed his amusement.

"Perhaps." Riley smirked at Angela's annoyance. She huffed and turned back to the table before shouting in triumph.

"I told you I had it!" She said handing the slender glass tube over to the Surdan mage. Riley lifted it to the light, and Eragon heard him mutter a brief spell under his breath.

"You've been using it with your plants." Riley said flatly. "What exactly are you doing back here?"

"Do you have any more of those fancy metal amulets?" Angela asked ignoring his question, instead holding up an intricate metal amulet. Riley eyed her warily, suddenly suspicious.

"Why?" He asked sharply. "They don't do anything."

"I know but I can convince my customers that they do." Angela said lightly. Riley frowned at the idea, and looked thoughtful.

"However did you get those others?" He asked.

"I have my sources." Angela said. Riley's frown deepened.

"And I have mine." He warned her. Angela crossed her arms angrily and demanded:

"Just answer the question."

"I don't." Riley said flatly. "There might be some back in Surda."

"Greylay! Orrin's getting impatient, what's taking so long?" A soldier burst into the tent, flushing in embarrassment when they all turned to stare at him. "Uh, pardon me."

"Hello, Tad. Angela was having trouble locating it." Riley said. Tad flushed deeper, and mumbled another apology. "I'll bring it to him, immediately." Riley brushed a strand of hair behind his ear, and hurried from the tent. Eragon stared dumbfounded after him. When Riley had brushed the hair behind his ear, he had revealed that it was delicately pointed. Tad caught his look and smiled.

"Didn't you know? He's part elf."

"Part elf?" Eragon gasped.

"Somewhere between an eighth, and a half elfish." Tad guessed, still smiling at the shadeslayer's shock.

"That would explain his talent for magic." Angela said. "I had guessed that it was something of the sort."

"It's also the reason for his family's disgrace." Tad said shrugging. "I can't blame the Greylays, most of the commoners feel the same way. If an elf wants to hide I don't think all of the magic of a human could uncover the deception. The nobles didn't see it the same way, twas an ugly inquisition."

"An inquisition?" Even Angela seemed surprised. Tad snorted at their expressions, and rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't kept a secret. It was a huge scandal. Riley Greylay ended up with elven ears but none of the Greylays were elves. Clearly, an elf had infiltrated the blood line at a recent point in time. It could have been Riley's mother, or any of Schuyler's parents. Schuyler's always had a natural talent for magic. Heck, it could even have been one of his parent's parents." Tad said. "Like I said, it was a huge scandal. The Greylays had dedicated themselves to the Surdan monarchs for eons."

"Fascinating." Angela said, sounding very interested. Tad grinned at her interest, clearly enjoying the attention and the opportunity to tell the story.

"The nobles had a fit, put the Greylays on trial, and had the whole family declared 'disgraced'. There were a slew of deaths rumored to be ordered by some of the nobles, not all of the Greylays have magical protection, y'know. The remaining members retreated to the ancient Greylay Estate in Surda, no one knows how many are left. They tend to keep to themselves with the exceptions of Riley and his father Schuyler." Tad said. There was a loud cough and the three turned to stare at the man who had peered into the tent. General Felix frowned at Tad, and brushed the orange hair away from his face in order to fix the soldier with a glare.

"Still gossiping Tad?" He accused. "Can't you just keep your mouth shut?"

"Yes sir." Tad murmured, flushing red with embarrassment at being caught. Felix gestured that he should leave, and Tad fled the tent. Then Felix turned to look at Eragon and Angela.

"You'll have to pardon him, he ought to know better." Felix said.

"He was lying to us?" Eragon was surprised; Tad had seemed too earnest to be lying. The smiled on Felix's face was sad.

"I never said that. It's just that old wounds are better left alone." And with that the Surdan general bid them farewell.

*Line Break*


	16. Interlude 4: Greylay's Disgrace

**Interlude 4: The Greylay's Disgrace**

"_Schuyler Greylay, correct?" The voice asked coldly. Schuyler did not look up from where he sat, his head cradled in his arms. He should have been at a celebration for the birth of his son; instead he was dragged to an inquest. What should have been a happy occurrence was quickly turning into a personal hell._

"_Correct, sir." Schuyler answered, looking up to meet the cold eyes of his persecutor. There was no pity there as the man read out the charges, as though Schuyler and all of his ancestors had not been dedicating their lives to Surda for ages. "You are accused of being a traitor to the royal crown of Surda."_

_Schuyler barely listened as the man continued to read out the charges, his mind far away desperately searching for an explanation to the current events. Just a few days ago, his wife had given birth to a son before passing on after catching a plague, while weak from childbirth, that had been raging through Aberon. Her body had been burned immediately as was the custom for plague victims._

_He himself showed no physical characteristics but his talent with magic was greater than most of the Surdan mages. Not exactly surprising, since the Greylay family had always had a knack for magic._

_His own parents were long dead, and their bodies had likely decomposed beyond recognition already. In short he had no way of knowing when the travesty had occurred._

"_And of sharing restricted information with spy, and of failing to hold up to your oaths to the country." The man said._

"_The evidence for the accusations?" King Larkin asked, serving as witness to the trial. Schuyler studiously avoided his old friend's gaze, holding his head high as he waited fatalistically for the words that he knew would follow._

"_The child has elfin blood." The man said. Schuyler closed his eyes as there was an audible intake of breath throughout the courtroom; and shocked silence._

_He didn't understand. An elf would have had to have infiltrated the family but when… and why? It could have been his own wife, or one of his parents, or earlier? He knew nothing of elfin genetics. But why? Oh why? His life's work lay shattered in front of him, and he knew with certainty that nothing would be the same._

"It's too young for him to be pushed into the court. It's a nest of vipers." Larkin argued, his voice low to ensure that the little boy would not hear him. It was, Larkin knew, almost a failure at best; the child had the hearing of an elf. The man standing across from him smiled sadly and glanced over at the boy for a moment. Then the soft expression vanished, and his face was firm with determination as he turned back to his king.

"What choice is there?" Schuyler wanted to know. "Your enemies are far spread, Larkin. The people love you but Galbatorix and the nobles are cunning."

"The people's support is all that is necessary." Larkin said.

"My family is disgraced, and the only reason that we are still allowed here is because even the nobles realize that we are more dangerous as enemies than as allies." Schuyler said, his voice rough with anger. His entire career and life's goal had come crashing down with the birth of his son. What should have been the most joyous occasion of his life, had brought everything down around him. Larkin shook his head violently, and rested one hand on Schuyler's shoulder. His friend tensed at his touch, and for a moment Schuyler's eyes showed just how much pain he was in.

"It was not your fault." Larkin said.

"Aye, it was the elves. Indirectly though it _was_ my family's," Schuyler took a harsh rattling breath. "We failed to keep all of Surda's information safe."

"But I am still here. That cannot be considered a failure." Larkin tried to comfort his friend but Schuyler had become increasingly pessimistic.

"That is the only reason they kept me." Larkin was about to deny it, but Schuyler spoke again quickly. "Why must you argue when you know it is true?"

"Father." The boy spoke suddenly, and both of the adults' attentions were brought to the young boy. Little Riley, looked different from the average child, his too dark eyes filled with knowledge that Larkin would not wish on any child. He had heard the hate and venom spewed words during the council trial that looked in the Greylay case, and hissed at the child throughout his life. His innocence, many would say, was ruined. Larkin saw something in him that made him want to give comfort but the child would never accept help from an adult. An idea sparked in his mind, his own son was still young but…

"Riley?" Schuyler asked warily. The child tilted his head, and the black hair shifted revealing the pointed ears of an elf.

"Someone is coming." Riley said simply. Schuyler grinned in triumph, and turned back to Larkin.

"Whatever you may say, Larkin, our fate has been sealed." Schuyler said fatalistically. Larkin was horrified at the change in his advisor. "We have no purpose but to serve, they will seek to dispose of us the minute we are no longer useful." Schuyler's gaze seemed filled with conflicting emotions, Larkin could see the determination, the anger, the hopelessness, and the grief hiding there but most of all Larkin could see how badly his friend craved his acceptance. Schuyler needed to know that he would not be sacrificing himself, and his son for nothing.

"Then, you had better make sure that you continue to be useful." Larkin said hollowly. He felt as if something in him was breaking. The world had been turned upside down, and he could not find a way to right it again. Could things ever go back to the way they were before? Larkin wondered. Schuyler and little Riley bowed simultaneously, and disappeared silently into the hallway. There was a strangled scream from the direction they had left, and Larkin shut his eyes. The blood filled image his imagination had summoned refused to disappear and leave him in peace. At least, Larkin thought darkly, it was not Schuyler or Riley dying this time.

_Schuyler Greylay looked over at his son, sensing that his nerves were starting up again. Riley had not been this nervous earlier while dueling with a Black Hand magician. It amused Schuyler to no end, that his son was uneasy about meeting anyone near his own age. Perhaps it was not altogether surprising considering the venom and spite that Riley received from the other members of the court. The spite had only recently begun decreasing as news of his magic spread; Schuyler knew that when a Greylay came into their power they were transformed in the eyes of the court. Fear mixed with respect would come next._

_King Larkin entered the room, followed by his young son who was much younger than Riley, although they looked to be about the same age due to Riley's elfin blood. Orrin was an inquisitive child by all accounts, not to mention bright. Schuyler had come across the boy experimenting in some of the abandoned dungeons below the castle. Orrin's gaze was curious and his expression open as he looked at Riley._

"_Orrin, this is Riley Greylay." Larkin introduced Riley to his son. A smile appeared on Orrin's face and he held a hand out to Riley. Riley glanced once, nervous and surprised, at his father before accepting the handshake._

"_It's a pleasure to meet you." Orrin said honestly with another smile. Riley smiled back hesitantly and Schuyler blinked in surprise._

_Fear mixed with respect would come next but maybe… friendship and loyalty would come too._

"Father!" The child gasped in fright, and pain. A gash had opened up on the little boy's arm, and thick blood welled from the wound. Schuyler checked the pulses of the intruders, and was pleased to find them missing. Only then did he turn to look over at his son.

"Heal yourself." Schuyler told the boy firmly, ignoring the pleading in the wide blue eyes. Tears trickled out but the boy refused to make a sound. He had learned long ago not to cry out and today he would learn to be self sufficient or he would bleed to death. A deep gash stood out on the pale forearm of the boy, and the child eyed the wound with pain glazed eyes. Schuyler stood above his son, not even kneeling down to make eye contact with the child. Another tear leaked out of the boy's eyes as he turned his pleading eyes away from his father to look at the bloody gash.

"Waíse heill." Riley gritted out through clenched teeth, and he watched in pained silence as the skin pulled itself together. His father's eyes glowed with pride but Riley took the pain to heart. Never again would he beg for help.

"_Waíse heill." Riley said, using the ancient language instead of the gestures that he usually used. Necessity had forced him to learn another method, most magic users could be rendered harmless when silenced but the gestures used by his Greylay ancestors allowed him to perform magic without speaking. A useful talent, especially in the defense business. The idea was simple, each gesture stood for a word in the ancient language and served to focus the magic better than thoughts alone._

_Plus at the moment his hands were firmly pressed to dark blood coated skin, applying enough pressure to slow the bleeding as he summoned the magic to heal the wound. He could feel the skin pull itself together, and when he was sure that it was healed he removed his hands, and leaned back on his heels to survey the terrified young woman._

_Nasuada had just recently arrived at Aberon, and this was the first time Riley had met her. Earlier at the ball celebrating her arrival he had been engaged tracking down a rogue Black Hand magician who had followed the Varden guests all the way from Tronjheim. Which lead directly to the current encounter._

"_Riley Greylay, Surdan mage at your service." Riley offered by way of explanation. Her dark eyes glanced past him to the corpse sprawled in the hallway._

"_Nasuada Ajihadsdaughter." She replied politely. Riley stretched and stood before offering her his hand. She accepted the assistance without even flinching at the blood coating his hands, Riley noted with interest._

"_I'm sorry for the inconvenience. He slipped past the guard." Riley said with some anger. "Do you require another healer?" Nasuada quirked a smile at that, and shook her head._

"_No harm done. It's happened before in Tronjheim." She said graciously before gesturing to her arm. "And thanks to you, the wound is already healed. I think that I will just go and clean up, you seem to have a corpse to take care of."_

_With those parting words, Nasuada dropped a curtsey and hurried off leaving behind a mildly impressed Greylay… and a corpse._


	17. Chapter 13

**Ch. 13**

Riley Greylay gritted his teeth, and fixed the parchment before him with a frightening glare. Dealing with the crazy witch Angela had tested all of his patience, what little that there had been to start with was long gone.

"_Do you have any more of those fancy metal amulets?" Angela had asked ignoring his question, instead holding up an intricate metal amulet._

He especially did not want to know what lies she had been feeding to her customers in order to convince them to buy her wares. But the fact remained that she had somehow got a hold of one of the amulets _and_ traced its origin back to him. Or more precisely his family. He knew where to get more of the amulets but what he really wanted to know was just how powerful Angela was. Anyone who kept the company of were-cats should not be underestimated. Therefore he would take care to stay on her good side, which was resulting in the letter that needed to be written.

Most people assumed that Schuyler and himself were the only Greylays left alive and while it might seem true, the Greylay Estate back in Surda was home to another handful of people who merely shared the misfortune of the Greylay name. When the trial had occurred the whole family had been declared disgraced, and as such had given up their normal lives becoming outcasts in Surdan society. The lucky ones had made their way to the Greylay Estate, the not so lucky ones… Riley shook his head, ignoring the bloody picture brought to mind by that train of thought.

Being disgraced meant becoming an outcast and as such many of the Greylays had lost their livelihoods. The majority of the Greylays served as mages but had pulled away from the army in the face of the disgust after the disgrace, preferring to help from behind the scenes through Schuyler and Riley. The deaths secretly ordered by the nobles had purged the few non-mage Greylays from the family fold. Some of the mages dabbled in harmless magical artifacts to bring in an income to support the Estate. The fancy metal amulets had been idea created by his cousin, and had been surprisingly popular though Riley rarely paid attention to his relatives in Surda, busy as he was dealing with the Black Hand.

_G. Greylay,_

_It appears that your metal amulets have been even more popular than I expected. There's a witch here, Angela, who is interested in purchasing some more. I'm sure you'll be willing to oblige. Galbatorix initiated some new Black Hand magicians, I would be on the lookout if I were you. Keep me informed._

_~Riley Greylay_

G. Greylay, or Gilly Greylay though she hardly ever used her full name, frowned thoughtfully at the letter she had received. It had been tied to the leg of a hawk, she wondered faintly where her cousin had come across one of those, and typically succinct in the style of her cousin. The amulets would be easy enough to make, she probably had another box of them lying around somewhere in the lodge. As for the news of the Black Hand magicians, that was worrisome. She did not like considering the implications of that.

Although not for the same reasons as her cousin... Unlike Riley and Schuyler Greylay, she had not dedicated her life to the protection of the very place that destroyed her, Gilly thought bitterly. Still, she was a Greylay and while she had no elf blood she possessed that natural Greylay touch in regards to magic. This talent she employed with the ultimate goal of making a profit. Gilly Greylay was an entrepreneur, a tinker, and an innovator. She created magical trinkets, and other knick knacks or harmless potions to sell to certain choice clients, like Angela of the Varden. In a way, Gilly headed a black market of magical items, operating under the name 'G. Greylay'. It amused her that clients would immediately assume that G was a male, addressing the correspondence to the likes of Graham, Gawain, or George, according to what their minds supplied.

She never bothered to correct them. They would never meet in person, and would likely object to doing business with a female if they did find out. She was just as capable as any male to run a business. More so, if the amount of currency that she was making held for another year or so…

As charming as that was it wasn't her passion. No, the work that really amused her was the charms, curses, and poisons that could be created. These objects took talent, and creativity and she thrived on crafting them, feeling the thrill in imbibing the item with power and magic. Without them she would have sunk in abject boredom…and possibly poverty. These 'specialty items' she created and stored in the estate, selling them usually to the Surdan government after her cousin requested them.

He knew that she did not feel the same loyalty to Surda, and yet… he always contacted her when he needed something. It was best to keep the business in the family. The tenet had almost become the unofficial motto of the Greylays.

Which was why, Gilly didn't even bat an eye when she held the note just above the candle flame and the heat revealed a second request. (Written in ink, revealed only by heat, and frequently used in personal correspondence. Never let it be said that the Greylays are not careful.)

_Magic inhibitor. Non-fatal._

Gilly rubbed her hands together in glee. Now that was more like it, she thought satisfied, a magic inhibitor... Obviously, Riley needed one that was extremely powerful or he could have made it himself. The more powerful the effect desired the more time consuming it was to create, and Riley never seemed to have enough time. The non-fatal stipulation was curious though, Gilly wondered exactly who or what Riley needed it for. She was being paid for her silence and her success, so Gilly filed the thought away. It would require all of her focus. Cutting a mage away from magic without killing them would be tricky… That would definitely prove to be challenging, and Gilly had always relished a challenge.


	18. Chapter 14

**Ch. 14**

"Attention!" The voice rang out throughout the camp; it was magically enhanced so that it seeped into every tent and corner, reaching the soldiers even in their dreams.

_Thump._ Adler bolted upright before he realized that it had only been James falling out of his cot. Every morning the same thing happened, James would fall out frightened by the voice and inadvertently wake Adler in time to make roll call.

"Again James?" Adler groused, feeling especially irritable. Sleep had been elusive last night. His fellow soldier glared at him sleepily as he picked himself off of the ground and began getting into his armor.

"Shut up, Adler."

"Aye, sir." Adler finished buckling the last of his armor, and hurried from the tent just in time to avoid being hit by a boot.

At the entrances to the Common tent soldiers inspected the armor of those entering. If you didn't pass inspection you would not be receiving that meal. Food proved to be a powerful motivator in Galbatorix's army and as such was used to maintain the discipline of the army.

The lines moved quickly and efficiently, though Adler had to resist the urge to fidget as the soldier inspected the interlocking sections of armor looking for mistakes or dust. Adler breathed a sigh of relief after the soldier nodded to him and waved him in. Breakfast was one of the better meals of the day. The cooks for the army were lead by an graying old man named Shep, whose determination to feed everyone had led to some of the most interesting potlucks that Adler had the fortune to taste.

"Hey there! Quiet down!" Shep's cracking voice broke into the morning chatter and the soldiers quieted down instantly. He had an effect similar to a grandparent; you listened because you respected them. "That's better. Today's collection is for a widow in Dras-Leona, she's got three children all under five years old. Her husband passed on after the last battle. I expect you all to contribute today; in return I've got fresh baked dark bread!" Shep declared.

Shep held a collection every day, and each day it was for a different recipient. Yesterday had been a struggling farmer in Yazuac whose crops had been wiped out because of a brush fire. The old man was determined to help others, and in return for the monetary contributions to the collections he always offered an extra treat. Sometimes it was bread, other times pastries, and once Adler had heard a rumor that Old Shep had offered a cask of beer if the soldiers donated enough to build a poor family a house. Adler was glad that he had remembered to bring an extra coin; the dark bread was one of Shep's best creations, crusty and hearty.

Adler was almost to the front of the line when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. It was James, and both of them ducked out of the way. Soldiers cleared the way to the front of the tent, and Adler turned to see who was coming. The red rider strode into the tent, and all noise ceased. All eyes were on the man as he moved to the front, dropping a coin into the collection jar and collecting his food. He sat down at a table, and pretended to ignore the soldiers who scurried away leaving him sitting alone.

Adler sighed in relief; the red rider was a terrifying figure. Word spread around the army quickly of his feats, and his close proximity to Galbatorix only increased the rumors. He went to drop the coin into the collection jar and blinked in disbelief. Lying on top of the other coins was a full silver crown. Adler dropped his coin in, and collected his food thoughts lingering on the red rider.

"What are you thinking about?" James wanted to know after they had found a place to sit and eat. Adler fiddled with his fork, and glanced back at the red rider.

"Did you see what he put into the collection jar? A whole silver crown! He can't possibly be that bad if he can spare a silver crown for a widow." Adler said. James looked surprised and he glanced over at the red rider.

"I think he heard you. He's looking over here." James said slowly. Adler flushed in embarrassment; it was never a good idea to draw attention to yourself.

"He'd have to have pretty sharp hearing to hear me." Adler mumbled worriedly. James shrugged and went back to eating.

"Well, he _is_ a dragon rider. I hope you didn't offend him."

"Oh…thanks." Adler fiddled with his food, too nervous to stomach any more.

*Line Break*

That same nervous feeling would surface again when he found himself facing a soldier in the red rider's personal regiment. The soldier frowned at him, seemingly uninterested, although Adler felt that that he was being scrutinized carefully. The soldier unrolled a piece of parchment and read in an official calm tone.

"Ehren Adler, you have been officially reassigned to the regiment of the red rider. You will report to General Murtagh tomorrow." The soldier looked over Adler, and smirked slightly. "Welcome, Adler."

"Ah…thank you. It is an honor." Adler said, swallowing all of the nervous feelings. He could not believe that the red rider had moved him into the ranks of his personal soldiers. He wondered why… surely not just because he had overheard him at the morning meal. The soldier handed over the parchment, and turned sharply to march off. Adler stared after him, before looking down in shock at the seal on the parchment. Then he stumbled back into his tent, and sank on his bed. James looked over in shock.

"What happened?" James wanted to know. Adler handed him the parchment and James glanced over it, before whistling in admiration. "Impressive."

"You don't think it's because of breakfast, do you?" Adler asked, gesturing vaguely at the paper. James looks the document over gain and nods slowly, still looking surprised and impressed.

"It might be." He said.

"But…" Adler begins to protest, and James cuts him off.

"Who knows why? He's a dragon rider. Just get some sleep." James says, and it's clear that he is ending the conversation there. Adler gives in, and goes to sleep, after tucking the parchment away in his bag.

When he wakes up the next morning, James is gone. James doesn't show up at breakfast either, and that's when Adler hears the rumor that another division was forced into becoming 'painless'. Adler glances nervously over to where the Red Rider is sitting and wonders if he knew about that.

Either way, Adler's grateful. He considers himself loyal to the empire but not _that _loyal. He'd rather survive the war. The death rate among the 'painless' is undoubtedly a hundred percent. If the red rider had not intervened for whatever reason, he would have been as good as dead, and for that reason he's grateful. No, in Adler's book at least, the red rider is not all bad.


	19. Chapter 15

**Ch. 15**

The Langfeld cousins and Riley Greylay gathered in Orrin's meeting tent early in the morning to discuss the map, and the outcome of their meeting with the Varden. Orrin sat in the only chair in the room while Faellie paced the length of the tent and Riley Greylay leaned forward with his forearms resting on the tabletop as he examined the map of Uru'Baen.

"How was your meeting Faellie?" Orrin asked hesitantly because he knew how tense the relationship between Nasuada and Faellie was. Both of them were jealous of each other's position and fiercely protective of those under their care.

"It went about as well as expected." Faellie said absently as she continued pacing back and forth across the room.

"So does that mean I have a diplomatic crisis on my hands or not?" Orrin wondered aloud, not knowing what his cousin had been expecting.

"If you have a diplomatic crisis it will be because of Riley and his duel not because of me." Faellie muttered. "Nasuada and I were civil. In fact, I dare say we've agreed to disagree and to let bygones be bygones."

"Riley started a magician's duel?" Orrin glanced at his mage in disbelief; it was out of character for his usually well-tempered advisor. Riley was scowling at the map, clearly angry that Faellie had the nerve to mention it.

"It was uncalled for sir I apologize." Riley gritted out through a clenched jaw. "I reacted poorly." Orrin frowned as Riley avoided his eyes, and turned to Faellie for the rest of the story. She paused in her pacing and smiled wryly.

"The Varden sorceress, Triana, implied that the Greylays were lax in their duties to Surda and that he ought to have been at the forefront of this battleground. Riley defended himself a little more sharply than usual." Faellie explained, and Orrin understood. Riley Greylay, due to his own family's disgrace, had learned the ways of court at a very young age and was usually inoffensive and sly when it finally came to insults. Riley looked up at the pair of cousins, and Orrin noted the lines around his eyes and the shadows that were noticeable if you knew where to look for the holes in Riley's façade.

"Alright, that doesn't sound too bad though it could have been handled better. I've hardly been completely calm while working with the Varden so I can't fault you there." Orrin said. "Are there any political loose ends regarding the duel that need to be dealt with?"

"No." Riley sounded relieved, and Orrin cringed internally knowing that his friend had been beating himself up over his 'failure'. "I have met with Triana and the Varden's Du Vangr Gata."

"And..?" Faellie prompted very curious. Riley shrugged in response, and looked back down at the map of Uru'Baen though the tension was gone from the line of his shoulders.

"Excepting Triana, Eragon, and the witch woman Angela most of them barely have any magic, a few can manage healing and deflection spells, nothing very serious." Riley said, finger tracing a path through Uru'Baen as he spoke. "Angela's skills are a mystery to me although I know that she does not do much magic through the use of the ancient language. She has other skills, perhaps due to her living with a were-cat…" He trailed off, looking thoughtful.

"And Triana? What did you make of her?" Faellie wanted to know. "You beat her in the duel but it looked like a rather close thing."

"I was trying not to hurt her." Riley bristled in defense before growling. "I'm out of practice, usually you want to kill and infiltrate the enemies mind. Duels are not supposed to be used so frivolously. I don't know what that woman was thinking!"

"I don't doubt your skills." Orrin comforted his friend, glancing warningly at his cousin. "Is she a threat?"

"No." Riley said without preamble. "She wouldn't last in a real duel. Her magic is tied to the bracelet, a defense spell in an heirloom, it wouldn't be much use in a true no holds barred duel. She doesn't use magic in the ancient language from herself, she is a sorceress and must summon spirits if she wants to complete any complicated spells."

"Then as long as there are no loose ends regarding the duel, we can shelve that topic." Orrin said.

"Everything has been taken care of; those in Du Vangr Gata recognize my magic now so I won't be attacked by a panic stricken Varden member." Riley answered.

"Then on with business. Faellie, did you make any headway regarding the lace?" Orrin asked.

"She refuses to back down although she no doubt realizes what she is doing to our people back in Surda; she simply is too focused on the war. She only needs to find money to support her war not care for a country. She will only stop if we prove more money." Faellie said.

"And the country coffers?" Orrin asked. Faellie shook her head.

"Will be needed back in Surda. The war is beginning to cost too much in the eyes of many of the citizens, they will not be pleased if we spend anymore. We need to placate them by helping their livelihoods somehow." Faellie said. "I have an idea."

"Alright, go on." Orrin said.

"We need to gain back the lace market, the Weaver and Lace Guilds are the most powerful back in Surda and they will increase their support if we can prove that we protect them even from our allies." Faellie explained. "We shall have to discredit the Varden lace, a smear campaign if you will. Spread the word that cheap lace is not worth it, or that real lace is of a higher quality. I have gotten the Lace Guild to approve a cheaper and quicker made simple lace design that could entice customers away from the Varden lace if we spread the right rumors and words about."

"Clever, alright. Does it sound legal enough to you Riley?" Orrin turned to his other advisor, who nodded slowly.

"As long as we don't take credit for the sudden rumors it will all be hearsay anyway and Nasuada cannot control people's tastes." Riley said.

"I'll see if Toffer Lael can get the rumors started. He should know which soldiers have wives and the wives can probably do all of the talking for us. We just need to set things in motion as soon as possible." Faellie said.

"Agreed. That's settled then, talk to Lael and set the plan in motion. Now as to the last order of business, the map of Uru'Baen." Orrin said nodding towards the map spread out of the table.

"The Varden are already suspicious of us, we will need to share it will them but it would be better if we could have some backup on their side who could vouch for the authenticity of the map." Riley said.

"It would have to be someone knowledgeable and trustworthy, perhaps someone whom the dragon rider, Eragon, trusts? He seems to have the ear of every Varden leader, and the dwarves and elves as well." Faellie added.

"I think I have heard of someone." Orrin said after a pause. "His name is Jeod; he came back from Teirm in the Empire and supposedly worked with Brom and met Eragon when he first became a rider."

"Shall I go meet with him?" Riley suggested, as he rolled the map up before sealing it magically in its container again.

"Yes, obtain his agreement and then invite him to a strategy meeting tomorrow. I'll send the invitations to the rest of the leaders." Orrin said.

"Is there anything you wish me to do?" Faellie asked, and Orrin nodded.

"I need your input on some of the economic situation and you can get me up to date on Surda whilst Riley goes to meet with Jeod." Orrin said.

Riley Greylay straightened, and slid the map container into his cloak before bowing politely in farewell and leaving the tent. He ducked under the spear of the soldier guarding the door who snapped to attention as he passed, and heard a rustle of footsteps following him. He glanced over and noticed the black wolf with the white ruff of fur on his chest, Torix. The wolf kept an even pace with him though it stayed silent. Riley brushed his fingers gently over the head of the wolf in greeting, and felt the greeting of the wolf in return as a picture of sunlight forest burst shortly through his mind.

_You seek the one called Jeod._ Torix said in Riley's mind in his gravelly voice having caught the surface thought.

"Yes. I don't suppose you know where he is?" He whispered, knowing the wolf would be able to hear though others would not. The wolf brushed against his leg, and the feeling of 'follow' along with a picture of two wolves running brushed his mind. Riley turned slightly and followed along just behind the wolf.

He was surprised at the size of Jeod's tent, and when he entered he saw all of the books and maps that the man had brought along. He knew that he had found the right person. A man's head peered up at him from where he sat going through maps and papers at a table, recognizing him.

"You wear the colors of a Surdan Mage you must be Greylay. Eragon mentioned you." The man said by way of greeting. Riley suppressed a smile, and nodded politely.

"Are you Jeod? I have a matter of importance to bring to his attention." He did not miss the way the man's eyes tightened with curiosity.

"I am. What could you need me for?" Jeod asked aloud. Riley pulled the map container from his cloak and set about unsealing it.

"It is a matter of authenticity, and I have heard that you are somewhat an expert on Uru'Baen." Riley said, as he carefully straightened out the map. Jeod gasped as he leaned forward and took in the sight. He pulled out a magnifying lens and examined the charcoal and ink lines along with the coarseness and thickness of the parchment for some time before breathing out in surprise with a smile on his face.

"This is a stroke of good luck." Jeod said. "It's a true map of Uru'Baen as far as I can tell."

"King Orrin will be most pleased." Riley agreed easily.

"Along with all of the Varden." Jeod added with a chuckle.

"King Orrin requests your presence at the meeting tomorrow so that you might clear up any doubts from the other leaders as they arise." Riley said politely and Jeod face creased with a pleased grin.

"I would be honored." He said.

"Excellent. I will send someone to summon you when it is time." Riley said as he carefully stored and sealed the map container again. He was about to say his farewell and leave when Jeod spoke again suddenly looking nervous but curious.

"Is it true about the Surdan custom of names?" Jeod asked, and Riley could see how curious the man was. He was clearly a dedicated scholar of many different interests.

"The Surdan custom of names?" Riley said puzzled not sure what he was referring to.

"That every fourth child in a lineage with common names will share the traits of the first." Jeod said by way of explanation. Riley blinked in disbelief, rather flustered as he figured out where the conversation was going.

"It is a legend of course." Riley said flatly.

"And Orrin is the fourth?" Jeod asked.

"Yes, King Orrin IV Langfeld." Riley replied reluctantly.

"And… what was the first?" Jeod prodded. "I'm terribly curious. It's one of the things I've been researching when I looked into Surdan culture." Riley sighed not seeing any polite way of avoiding the conversation.

"He was named for Orrin the Conqueror, the very first King of Surda." Riley said with a slight grin. "It's an inspiring thing for those who believe in that. Farewell Jeod, I will see you tomorrow."

And then he was gone, leaving Jeod to wonder if that legend was how Orrin had managed to gain such support in the army in the first place.


	20. Chapter 16

**Thanks to and _A Ghost Who Walks_ for reviewing the last chapter!**

**Ch. 16**

It was the presence of a stranger that had the camp buzzing, Katrina knew, the women and men that she had travelled from Carvahall with still stuck together and anyone new immediately raised suspicion. Even more so when the intruder requested her by name. Gertrude had helped her dress and brush out her hair quickly, murmuring about how fine the other woman was dressed and how she held herself in the straight-backed pose of the high class.

"She is no better than you Katrina, don't let her upset you. If you need help, we're all here for you. Just holler." Gertrude said with a grin and Brigit had added while fiddling with a dagger.

"We'll forcefully throw her out if you need us to."

"I'm sure everything will be fine." Katrina had assured them quickly, amused and grateful that they were so protective of her. She ran a hand over her steadily growing belly and smiled thinking of the baby. "I'll be just fine."

She had gone out to greet the woman, and was surprised to find that the woman seemed to be very near in age to her. The woman had reddish hair that had been gathered into a complicated bun, and a sharp gaze that swept over her. She felt keenly aware of the other woman passing judgement on her, and wondered how she could possibly compare. The other woman was dressed in a practical dress but the fabric and rich blue color spoke of her status as did the lace around the hem and collar of the dress. As Katrina neared, the woman dropped a quick curtsey and offered Katrina a brown paper wrapped parcel that she had been carrying. Katrina accepted the parcel and caught a glimpse of a gold ring on the woman's left hand.

"I must apologize." The woman said as she looked over Katrina. "I hadn't considered that this might not be an acceptable time to meet, my curiosity overcame me." Katrina felt her expression close off, and shook her head coldly.

"I have nothing to say about Eragon and his dragon or my husband." She said not interested in being a source of gossip. The woman's eyes widened and Katrina thought that the emotion that flitted by quickly might have been panic.

"I had actually been hoping to speak with you, about yourself and your relationship." She said. "Could we find somewhere to sit, I would hate to inconvenience you." Katrina pursed her lips but nodded. She seemed sincere enough and determined enough that Katrina would have to speak with here for a little while before she would leave. Katrina led the way to her tent and pulled out two stools so that they could speak and still enjoy the pleasant weather. The other woman sat down, and folded her hands primly in her lap. Katrina sat down and felt immediately grateful to be off her feet, as glad as she was about the baby, being pregnant made everything more difficult.

"I'm at a disadvantage; you already know who I am." Katrina said when the woman did not begin to speak. The other woman took a deep breath, and looked over at Katrina.

"My name is Charlotte Lael, my husband is a general in the Surdan army. My husband speaks highly of your husband's skill but I had actually been hoping to meet you for awhile now." The woman said, and Katrina remembered Roran mentioning a General Lael once or twice.

"But why would you want to talk to me?" Katrina asked bewildered. The Surdan woman flushed, apparently embarrassed, and couldn't look Katrina in the eyes.

"I had wanted to see if you were really as in love with Roran as the rumors say you are." Charlotte admitted, though the words came out painfully slowly. "He went through hell to save you, and I wanted to see if the love was really mutual."

"Of course it is!" Katrina said shocked. Charlotte's head snapped up, and she seemed taken aback.

"I didn't think that love like that really existed." Charlotte said, and Katrina found her gaze drawn to the ring that the Surdan woman was fiddling with.

"Do you not love him?" She asked softly and Charlotte froze, the color draining from her face. Her expression faded and she fixed Katrina with a solemn expression.

"Not everyone is lucky enough to marry for love. It isn't so simple." Charlotte said. "But he offered me everything."

"I don't understand." Katrina admitted. "Please. You can talk to me, I won't tell a soul. You seem as though you could use a sympathetic ear." Charlotte offered her a grateful smile.

"I'll try but it's complicated." She shook her head and looked at her lap. "I'm the third daughter of a head of the Lace and Weaver's Guild. It's one of the most powerful guilds in Surda, and my family was wealthy. My father is… a shrewd man and he had no intentions of paying for a huge dowry if he could avoid it. A young man came to my father to ask for my hand and he saw that he could offer a smaller dowry to the young man. He wasn't nobility but he was moving up through the army ranks and that is always considered a respectable position. My father arranged the whole marriage." Katrina watched Charlotte and realized that she could have been that woman. Her father would have arranged a marriage for her if events had not spiraled out of control.

"It could have been so much worse. The very first night as we sat to eat supper Lael said something that I'll never forget…

_He moved around the table to look down at her, and she folded her hands in her lap, studiously avoiding his eyes. She heard him sigh, and was surprised by the amount of affection in that noise._

"_Charlotte, I love you." He said, and she couldn't look at him because she knew he meant it. "I know that this isn't what you wanted, and I need you to know something." He paused and she knew that he was waiting for her to look at him. She obliged and wondered what the soft look meant._

"_Toffer?" She asked softly. _

"_I would do anything for you. What I want more than anything is for you to be happy." He took a steadying breath. "Even if that means you have someone else. " She felt her breath catch in her throat, he couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying. He couldn't be giving her permission to… have a lover. "I just want you to know that, and if you have a child I will claim them and treat them like my own."_

"_Toffer…" She couldn't believe what she was hearing, it was unreal and overwhelming. "But why?"_

"_I know you didn't have a choice and all I want is for you to be happy." He said, and he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving her alone in the dining room._

"I considered it in the beginning." She admitted in a rush of breath, eyes dropping to her lap unable to look Katrina in the eyes. "For the first month but I never acted on those thoughts."

"How could you?" Katrina asked, her tone that of disgust and wonder as though both repulsed and caught by the idea of infidelity. Charlotte's head jerked up, eyes blazing as she glared at the other woman.

"What if you weren't married to him?" She demanded. "What if Roran hadn't shown up to save you and you had been married off to someone else, every bit arranged by your father? Can you tell me that you wouldn't?" Katrina froze unable to answer. Her mind screamed that she would never but her heart was Roran's and she couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

"I…" Katrina couldn't finish her answer, the words stuck in her throat.

"Don't." Charlotte shook her head and the fire faded from her eyes as her voice dropped back to its hushed tone. "I had only met him once, in passing at a party thrown in Aberron."

"I can't imagine being without Roran. How can you endure staying?" Katrina asks. Charlotte looks up again but this time there is a soft smile on her face.

"Toffer is a good man." She says fondly, and Katrina blinks at the realization that this is the first time Charlotte's used her husband's name. "I'm fond of him, loyal to him. It isn't love, it can't be. Not with all that has happened because I'll always resent him for taking the choice from me."

"I don't understand." Katrina admitted, she couldn't fathom being without Roran and because of that she couldn't understand Charlotte. The other woman gave her a shy smile.

"But you listened. You've shown me that there is still love." Charlotte chuckled softly. "It sounds so sappy. I feel as though we're friends."

"How can we be anything but?" Katrina asked with a laugh. "After all those personal revelations?"

"I had hoped you would be a friend so I brought you that." Charlotte gestured to the parcel that Katrina still held clutched in her hands. "Go on, open it." She urged. Katrina carefully unwrapped the brown paper and gasped in delight.

"It's so beautiful!" She exclaimed as she ran her fingers over the delicate white lace with it's simple knotted pattern. Charlotte seemed pleased by her words and her smile grew.

"It's customary in Surda to gift friends with lace. That pattern is for forging new bonds of friendship." She said.

"I hadn't realized that the patterns had meanings." Katrina admitted in awe. "I don't have much lace."

"It's a deep rooted tradition in Surda." Charlotte explained. "It's why I can't understand why the Varden insists on spreading their magic made lace. It's not as high quality and they had no respect for the old traditions and the patterns."

"It's for the good of the Varden." Katrina said in defense but her fingers were running over the pattern in the lace and her gaze hadn't left it yet.

"I know but I believe in the old ways of Surda. Do you think any of your friends would be interested in Surdan lace? If you send them my way I'll be sure to get them a better deal, I may not be part of my father's family anymore but as my father said once a lace merchant's daughter, always a lace merchant's daughter." Charlotte said, and she slowly got to her feet. She helped Katrina up and they embraced before she left, Katrina promising to spread the word of her offer among her friends and the other women of Carvahall.


	21. Chapter 17

**Hazelcloud: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Also the way the wolves communicate is based partially off the **majay-hìs** in the Noble Dead Saga by Barb Hendee, which is a wonderful series that I highly recommend!**

**Ch. 17**

Eragon had been expecting to be called to another war council meeting for ages, King Orrin had implied that he would need to speak to all of them when his cousin and mage had arrived at the frontlines. When he woke one morning to the feel of Saphira in his mind he knew that something had finally happened.

_There is a pair of wolves here for you._ Saphira says and she sounds amused. _Such tiny little things._

_I will be right out._ Eragon replies and he dresses quickly. He had heard of the wolves that would be accompanying Faellie Langfeld and Riley Greylay but he had yet to speak with any of them. He runs his hand through his hair and decides that he looks presentable enough. Eragon steps out of his tent and spies the wolves immediately.

One of them is smaller than the other, its fur is a brownish color and it is sitting farther from Saphira than the other wolf. It bows its head when Eragon catches its eyes. The other wolf is larger and sitting much closer to Saphira, not intimidated by the way that she is baring her teeth at it. This wolf is Torix, Eragon remembers him from the magician duel, and its fur is pitch black except for the white ruff on its chest.

_It is a pleasure to finally meet you Saphira, dragons were once the greatest predator of Alagaesia._ Torix's mental voice is deep and rumbling.

_We still are._ Saphira growls back. The wolf exposes its white fangs in what could be a wolfish smile.

_Indeed, I meant no disrespect. Greetings lone wolf._ Torix says turning his head to look at Eragon. _There is to be a war council this morning, are you prepared._

"I am prepared. What do you mean lone wolf?" Eragon asks as he follows Torix when the wolf stands to lead the way to the war chamber. Saphira leaps into the air; she will meet them at the tent which has been altered so that she can fit her head inside.

_News of your actions with the wolf in the forest has spread. You are lone wolf, wolf without a pack, generous one. You have been claimed as wolf-friend._ Torix says and he brushes against Eragon. Eragon blinks at the image that is projected into his mind; it is him from the point of view of the wolf that he fed when he was traveling with Nar Garzhvog. _It is an honor to meet you and the dragon._

"Thank you." Eragon said politely but he was wondering how the wolf knew about the meeting. "How did you find out about that?"

_I keep in contact with some of the wolf packs. We speak in pictures. The wolf you encountered shared the memory with another wolf and it has been making its rounds amongst the wolves. You have gained much respect._ Torix replied.

"But how did he share the memory?" Eragon asked. He didn't know that any of the animals of the natural world shared memories; he had assumed that it was only something that magicians and dragons could accomplish.

_We speak mostly through sounds but when we need to share information it is done through touch. _Torix brushed against Eragon's leg, and he was left with a series of pictures; a sharp sensation, a thorn, and the color brown. _That specific set is Azur's wolf name._ Torix said as he looked over at the brown wolf that accompanied them, the smaller wolf was keeping a respectful distance away.

"That means Azur?" Eragon asked unable to see how the set of sensations and pictures related to the name Azur. Torix made a huffing sound and Eragon thought the wolf might be laughing.

_No. Azur is his human assigned name. Likewise, my human name is Torix. It is easier to convey than the wolf ones. We have grown fond of them; most wolves do not have such names._ Torix explained patiently.

"What would your wolf name be?" Eragon asked curiously. Torix brushed against him again and another set of sensations and pictures was projected into his mind. The vastness of the night sky, slick granite rock, and a flash of black.

_Here we are._ Torix said suddenly and Eragon realized that they were at the tent already. _It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance._

"And you too." Eragon said as he ducked into the tent after being announced. The conversation that he had with the wolf was interesting but he knew that he did not have time to think more about it at the moment; he needed to be focused on the war council meeting.

He entered the war council tent and saw the usual leaders, Nasuada, Arya, Jormundur, and Orrin but there were a couple that he was not used to seeing; General Felix, Mage Riley, and Jeod were also there. Eragon nodded a greeting to them and took a seat at the table that had been prepared in the room. There was the rush of wind that always accompanied Saphira's arrival and her head appeared in the cut in the tent that had been prepared specially for her. Orrin stood and everyone fell silent as they looked over at him.

"I called you here for a reason." Orrin said and Riley Greylay was pulling a carefully sealed scroll from his sleeve and placing it on the table. He murmured something softly and the scroll unsealed itself. Riley Greylay pulled a piece of parchment from the container and spread it gently out on the table, weighting the edges down so that it stayed flat. "My scholars found a map of Uru'Baen."

There was complete and utter silence as all of the leaders leaned forward. Eragon eyed the coarse looking parchment and the thick charcoal line on it. He knew what this could mean if it was a true map. Everyone knew that the true battle would be facing Galbatorix and taking the capital, Uru'Baen. If the Varden could take the capitol city, many of the other cities would surrender. It could cut the time that the war would last down drastically.

"Is it a true map?" Nasuada asks and Eragon can see the restrained hope in her stance and her expression. All eyes turn towards Orrin and the room is hanging on his answer.

"It is. I sought independent confirmation with scholar Jeod." Orrin says and Jeod is nodding in agreement.

"In my professional opinion this is a true and accurate map of Uru 'Baen. It is certainly one of the better maps that I have seen of the capital city." Jeod added.

"Excellent, this will help us figure out how to navigate the city." Nasuada says and it's clear that she is pleased. Orrin looks happy to have been of use also.

"I thought that I should share this with everyone. I know that we will have to face Belatona first but we need to begin to figure out how we will be getting into Uru 'Baen." Orrin said.

"I suggest that we all work with our generals and at the next meeting we can compare plans." Nasuada said, and her idea was quickly agreed upon. The war council meeting adjourned shortly after that, and Eragon and Arya left at the same.

"Things are finally beginning to look up." Eragon said referring to the map that he was sure would be key in figuring out how to enter Uru 'Baen and therefore defeating Galbatorix. Arya looked doubtful.

"Things will only look up if we figure out the correct way to use what we have found." She said.


	22. Chapter 18

**Hazelcloud: This is for RestrainedFreedom, I know it's hard to believe but I've been working on this chapter ever since your kind message. Also, Jan Rubens' name is a combination of Jan Van Eyck who created the **_**Ghent Altarpiece**_**, and Peter Paul Rubens who painted the triptych (three connected panels) **_**Raising of the Cross**_**. Both of which are beautiful works of art. Enjoy!**

**Ch. 18**

Arya's words weighed on Eragon's mind as he wound his way back through the camp. She was correct that they needed to come up with the correct plan especially since any invasion of Uru'Baen would have to be a victory or risk Galbatorix gaining strength and wiping out the Varden for good. He had hoped that a walk would clear his mind but his thoughts were twisting themselves into knots of worry and he was feeling more discouraged than when he had left the meeting. There was a brush of warmth against his mind and suddenly Saphira was speaking to him again.

_There appears to be some sort of celebration going on in the Surdan section of the camp… perhaps company would lift your spirits. _She suggested gently. Eragon sent back a wave of fondness and turned his feet in the direction of the Surdans.

As he drew nearer he could hear the strains of a fiddle and some other instruments, and sound of a caller announcing steps to a dance. The Surdans had cleared some ground in the center of their tents, and moved some of the supply wagons to the edge of the area. The musicians were perched on the flat beds of the wagons so that they were above the ground where the Surdans were dancing. Eragon couldn't help but to smile at all the enthusiasm. He had joined a few dances back in Carvahall for some of the holidays when the whole village would get together, and this seemed to be a festival like the ones he remembered. Eragon drifted to the edge of the clearing and just watched.

"Shur'tugal!" A cheerful voice greeted him. "I had not expected to see you here." Eragon turned and immediately recognized the ginger hair and bright smile of General Felix.

"Nor I you General." Eragon said politely. Felix grimaced and shook his head.

"Unless its business you may as well call me Felix. Everyone else does." He said with a laugh. "Oh dear…" Eragon turned to follow Felix's gaze, and saw a plump older man hurrying towards them. He did a quick little head bob of a bow.

"General Felix, and Dragon Rider Eragon, I humbly beseech you to grant me a boon." He said.

"You'll have to be a little more specific Jan Rubens." Felix said but his tone was clearly that was exasperated amusement.

"It's the triptych. The central panel needs to be striking!" Jan Rubens exclaimed. "I seek your permission to paint your dragon for it."

"Eragon?" Felix asked looking over at him. Eragon cast out the question to Saphira and she seemed pleased by the idea.

"Saphira is willing to allow you to paint her."

"Thank you! I was hoping to sketch her tomorrow in the early morning hours, would that be permissible?" Jan Rubens asked eagerly. Eragon checked once again with Saphira and she sent back another wave of agreement.

"That would be." He told the artist who murmured another thank you, bowed and scurried away looking triumphant.

"The medics will be so pleased. They commissioned Rubens to create them a triptych to inspire and bring comfort to the wounded that they treat." Felix said, and Eragon smiled.

"Well Saphira is flattered to be asked." He said.

"Ruben's has been searching for the center inspiration for ages; I think he's chosen well." Felix said. There was burst of laughter from the dancers, and both men turned to look. In the center, Lockwood and Lael seemed to be spinning each other in a center. Felix snickered, and a soft feminine laugh echoed to their right. Felix turned and bowed to the woman who was standing near them.

"Eragon allow me to introduce Lady Charlotte Lael." Felix said. Charlotte dropped a polite curtsey, and Eragon gave a small bow in response. She looked well dressed in clean blue fabric with a silvery necklace and her hair wound up in a bun. Charlotte reminded him a little of Arya in how confident and comfortable with herself she seemed, a trait of a noblewoman.

"It's a pleasure, although I will have to beg you to pardon me. I better go fetch my husband before he embarrasses me." She laughed, and after both men said farewell she swept into the ring of dancers. She avoided brushing against everyone and lightly tapped Toffer Lael on the shoulder. His face lit up when he turned to her, and he bowed deeply. Eragon could see a faint smile on her face before he took her hand, and the two of them went to dance. Lockwood extracted himself from the dancing and headed for Felix and Eragon.

The three stood silently until the music changed as the fiddler hopped off the wagon to take a break. He headed for the three of them and the two Surdans exchanged welcoming greetings.

"Oscar Tad, my favorite fiddler as always." Lockwood teased. Tad rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.

"I am the only fiddler you know." He said.

"Do you plan on dancing?" Eragon asked. He liked that the Surdans all seemed to share an easy teasing camaraderie but he knew that their teasing spats could last for hours.

"Oh no." Oscar Tad blushed suddenly and looked down at his fiddle case that he held on to. "I'm waiting until I can dance with Liliana."

"Your fiancé?" Eragon asked, Oscar suddenly reminded him of Roran when he thought about Katrina.

"Not yet. Once I get the pay for this war and find a ring, I'll be able to support her and ask for her hand officially." Oscar Tad blushed a deep red. Lockwood elbowed him in the side and shook his head.

"We all know it's practically official, she's waiting for you back home." He said. Oscar Tad nodded solemnly.

"And that's why I'll wait until I can dance with her." There was a brief silence after his pronouncement before Lockwood shrugged.

"Which is why we have to find a way to end this war as soon as possible." Lockwood said. Toffer Lael snorted and Eragon sighed.

"We would have to find a way into Uru'Baen." Eragon murmured.

"Lyre says that Uru'Baen is one of the biggest cities she's ever seen." Oscar Tad and all of their heads snapped over to look at him. He shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. "She's in charge of a group of players who travel throughout the Empire."

"It's perfect." Toffer Lael murmured, and then he grabbed Oscar by the arm and was hauling him off back into the camp. Felix, Lockwood, and Eragon exchanged triumphant glances.

"We might just have a chance. Let's celebrate." Lockwood grinned before he bullied the other two into joining the dancers.


	23. Chapter 19

**Hazelcloud: Surprise! It's another chapter, and the action will be coming up very soon.**

**Ch. 19**

Orrin sank back into his chair, fingers steepled before him, as he considered the pair of soldiers standing just inside the tent. He had not expected to see anyone tonight, and he was even more surprised by how determined they seemed. On the left stood Oscar Tad, still clutching the worn fiddle case in one hand. On the right was Toffer Lael, tanned arms crossed as he stared back at Orrin daring him to deny them a chance to speak.

"Go on, then. I can see that you have an idea." Orrin said, giving in. He could not fathom what had them so excited at the moment but it had better be good. It was getting late, and while he could run on little sleep for days he was beginning to feel rather worn out.

"The Varden want to get into Uru 'Baen to look for the dragon egg and the elves have another reason for wanting to get into the castle, right?" Toffer Lael asked, although Orrin was sure that it was a rhetorical question. If it wasn't he was going to fire the man. Lael grinned widely at him, as though guessing his thoughts, and spoke quickly plunging forward. "Well, I think I know a way in."

"What?" That got Orrin's attention. Lael's grin widened even farther, and he nodded.

"I think I know a way in." Lael repeated. Orrin leaned forward, intensely interested now. "Galbatorix is a king, and as a king he has certain societal responsibilities. Namely, he must be throwing parties for the nobles. He needs their support to finance his army and no matter how powerful he needs allies."

"I don't see how this helps us." Orrin admitted. "We can't sneak anyone in as a guest. It would be obvious that they were out of place."

"Not as a guest. As the entertainment." Lael explained. Orrin leaned back in his chair, mulling it over.

"I suppose it's possible." He conceded. Lael's grin faded slightly as Orrin shook his head. "But we don't have the time it would take to create a convincing group of players."

"That's just it. We wouldn't have to." Lael said, grin reappearing. "Tell him what you told me." He said, nudging Oscar Tad. Tad gripped the fiddle case tighter and nodded.

"My sister is in charge of a group of players. They had been traveling in the empire before the war really erupted, and haven't left since then. There's no way of tracing them back to Surda. They've been performing throughout the empire, so they would have the credibility that we need to get into Uru 'Baen." Oscar Tad explained, looking slightly nervous but sounding sure of himself.

"Possibly even the castle." Lael added.

"Your sister?" Orrin asked.

"Lyre Tad, she's very loyal to Surda. I'm sure that she would be more than willing to help us." Oscar Tad said quickly.

"I'm not sure that we should drag any citizens into this." Orrin said hesitantly.

"This is war, sir." Lael said firmly. "Write to her at least. You'll want to send someone along. They can join the troupe and disappear afterwards." Tad was nodding, although less firmly. Likely he was thinking of his sister. Orrin had no doubt that she would offer to help, he just didn't want to see any harm come to her or her troupe… He hated dragging civilians into the war.

"Alright, I'll write to her." Orrin said slowly. "And since you're so keen about the whole idea, when the time comes… I think you'll be the one to join her."

"Whatever you say, sir." Lael said, still grinning. "I do play a mean cow bell."

"Just get out." Orrin sighed, rubbing wearily at his eyes.

"Be sure to write to her. It wouldn't be right to miss a chance like this." Lael said seriously, before leaving, Tad following in his wake. Orrin heaved another weary sigh before going to fetch parchment and a quill.

Orrin had known that Oscar Tad had two siblings, although he had not known that Lyre Tad ran a traveling show in the Empire. That she had the foresight to begin her forays into Empire territory long before the beginning of the war, was even more of a surprise. Due to her foresight her group of performers had managed to gain popularity without the blot of suspicion cast upon most Surdans. Orrin doubted that the arrival of the group in Uru 'Baen would bring any undue suspicion. She was in the perfect position to help even the odds of the war. Now all he had to do was convince her. Tad had assured him that his sister would be more than willing but Orrin hesitated, not wanting to place another person in danger.

Orrin flattened the parchment, and picked up the quill ready to begin. Galbatorix had no idea who he was dealing with. Simply put, he did not have the allies and loyalty that the Varden, Surda, elves, dwarves, or even Urgals had. When everyone came together, no matter how weak or how small the force, the sheer numbers would be able to overcome the tyrant's rule. Still, the best plans always required more finesse which is why he would send the letter in spite of his fears.

Orrin sighed, and began the letter, knowing he had no choice. Any help would be invaluable.

_Greetings Lyre Tad,_

_I hope that this letter find you in good health. I met your brother the fiddler through work and we have become friends. He was the one who suggested that I send any interested performers to you. I hope that it is not an inconvenience but I do know of a couple of players who are interested in joining your troupe. They are very excited to gain the chance to travel with you. They have not visited many large cities, and hold a particular interest in seeing the wonder of Uru 'Baen. Hopefully, they won't be too much of a problem._

_~Toffer Lael_

Orrin winced as the quill scratched unpleasantly as he signed the unfamiliar name. He could never use his actual name, and it would just be safer to sign the letter with Lael's name, since he would be the one joining Lyre Tad later on. Orrin folded the letter shut, and dripped wax onto it to seal it. He blew on the molten wax to dry it, leaving off the traditional stamp. It would attract less attention this way.

Hopefully, Lyre Tad would be willing to help. This could be, Orrin thought, a turning point in the war, tipping it in their favor.


	24. Chapter 20

**Ch. 20**

The basement of the Greylay Manor was kept meticulously clean and lacked the dank smell that most basements had although had didn't stop the shiver that passed down the occupants' spines when they walked past. None of the surviving Greylays were strangers to pain but some thrived in the aftermath of their family's tragedy better than others. Gilly considered herself one of the stronger ones, her brother not so much. Gilly glanced over at her brother who was slumped against the stone wall, shaking and pale.

"Alright there Fletcher?" She asked solicitously and his eyes narrowed at her show of concern.

"I'm still here if that's what you're asking." He spat back, and then clutched at his shirt near his heart as his body curled up in a convulsion. Gilly watched as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor and lean back wearily. When she was sure that he was in no danger of pitching over and cracking his skull open on the stone floor she turned back to the wooden table laden with powders and various beakers and bottles of liquid.

"And how do you feel?" She asked without looking back at him. Fletcher heaved in a shaky breath.

"Foul." He decided, and his voice was bitter. Gilly hummed in approval, and mixed a teaspoon of the powder into a beaker turning the liquid a bright unnatural blue.

"The ancient language, can you say anything for me?" She asked. Fletcher wanted to spit out that of course he could but as he reached for the words he found his mind curiously blank.

"I…can't remember any." He couldn't help the thread of panic in his voice.

"That's okay, you shouldn't be able to." She said, her calm voice reassuring him. "And your magic?"

"Ugh." Fletcher responded, and Gilly swirled the teaspoon around to ensure that the powder dissolved fully.

"Try and reach for it please." She said. There were the sounds of shifting and a snap before there was only the sound of labored breathing.

"Non-existent." He growled, and shuddered knocking his head back into the wall with a clunk as he convulsed again.

"Excellent." Gilly filled a pipette with the mix and finally turned around, a small bowl in her other hand and under the pipette to avoid dripping any of the liquid anywhere. "Do me a favor and warn me if you think you're about to pass out. I certainly don't need another death on my hands."

"You're going to kill me one day." Fletcher grumbled as he watched her from his position on the floor. Gilly smiled brightly and shook her head.

"Not if I can help it. Besides I have another volunteer so you're released from helping me." She said. Fletcher's gaze slid over to the Black Hand magician who was gagged and handcuffed to the wall across the basement. The magician's eyes had bugged out in disbelief when Gilly had fed Fletcher the magic inhibitor, and then widened in fear as he realized that she was willing to experiment on even her family member. Fletcher knew that it might come across as…extreme but he trusted his sister with his life, and she was willing to do anything to help their family even though her opinions were frequently at odds with Riley Greylay.

"Thank goodness." Fletcher shivered as he broke out in a cold sweat, the slide of sweat down his back uncomfortable. "Not sure I could take much more of this." He could tell that his voice was slurring a little, and saw how Gilly's shoulders tensed up just the slightest bit.

"Still good?" She asked although she continued walked towards the Black Hand magician.

"Fine." He gritted his teeth, and voiced the next words to come out steady. "Get on with it."

"Patience brother." She set the bowl aside, and pushed the gag down out of the man's mouth. He immediately tried to spit out a spell but she forced the contents of the pipette into his mouth and clamped his mouth closed with a hand under his chin while pinching his nose shut with her other hands. The magician thrashed about in panic before he swallowed instinctively, and Gilly let go of his face. She carefully prodded the gag back into place and stepped away from the wall just as the magician's eyes rolled back and he started to shake.

"Goodness." Fletcher gasped and Gilly glanced at him sharply her face set in a grim expression.

"It does make you wonder what Riley needs something so foul for." She said. The magician shook again for another couple of minutes before the convulsions eased out into minute shakes. His eyes focused on Gilly when she stepped forward to press two fingers under his neck and took his pulse. "Weak but fairly steady. I don't feel his magic at all."

"Good?" Fletcher wondered as he fought the urge to shiver.

"As good as it looks like I'll get. It's hard to strip a person of a part of their being and not kill them." Gilly said as she turned away from the magician and headed back to the table. She pushed a stopper into the mixture and frowned at the liquid. "I still need to find a better way to store it. I might be able to crystallize it."

"I think I'm going to pass out." Fletcher mumbled. Gilly set the poison aside and hurried over. She slung his arm over her shoulder and levered him to his feet.

"Time to get you to bed then." She said.

Three weeks later after checking up on Fletcher, Gilly is tying a small pouch with three bright blue crystals in it to the leg of a hawk and scribbling out a quick letter.

_Dearest cousin,_

_I shall be frank, I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemies. It's non-lethal but only barely. Fletcher has barely recovered any of his magic and he had a third of the dose almost three weeks ago. The other volunteer for this version had a full dose and shows no signs of any magic. Be careful._

_~G. Greylay_


End file.
